


A Year in the Life

by Coraleeveritas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Not so meet cute, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-07-13 04:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16010198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coraleeveritas/pseuds/Coraleeveritas
Summary: Brienne Tarth is about to find out how much can change in a person's life in a year.





	1. January: Crash

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going to bore you too much with the reasons I took a step back from fandom stuff for a little while, namely work and anxiety affecting my confidence with pretty much every aspect of my life, but tonight I asked myself why I was so scared of posting this, something which has been completed for months and I couldn't come up with anything other than fear. Which is a stupid reason so I've decided to start sharing this multi chapter. It may not be the best thing I've ever written but it isn't my worst either.
> 
> Thank you to RoseHeart and Sandwhiches who have read and re-read parts of this over the last two years. Anything you recognise doesn't belong to me but all mistakes are my own.

Waving goodbye to the young man carefully checking inventory for what promised to be a long night, Brienne took a steadying breath and stepped out into the ice rink that used to be their parking lot. The weather had taken a turn for the worse during the afternoon's disciplinary slash health and safety seminar, called in part because of certain team members using the department's resources as props in their strictly off the books 'strong man' contests and getting injured in the process. Brienne had listened to their protests and the chief's far more sensible counter arguments for as long as humanely possible without showing any sign of irritation, her attention finally drifting to the window the moment snowflakes changed from dazzling dots in the air to flurries filled with fat, frozen fragments. For as long as she could remember winters in The Vale had never been pleasant, but there was something especially hostile about the first few weeks of the year, as if the world was suddenly at war with itself and wanted to cause as much collateral damage as possible.

She would have stayed to help prep the trucks, an extra pair of hands when rush hour hit and the number of emergency calls increased exponentially from those brave, or stupid, enough to risk the high altitude passes in such conditions, but there were only so many hours Brienne could work each week before she did more harm than good. Even if she hadn't just began paramedic training at the end of last year, it wouldn't be worth putting lives in danger just because her sense of duty outweighed the tiredness seeping into her bones. Besides, the chief's word was always final on the matter of overtime and even coming in for the seminar on one of her rest days had been frowned upon.

Keeping an ever watchful eye on the snow laden canopy stretched across the top of the frosted cars, the scene laid out in front of her looking nothing like those found on the joyful Winterfest cards that still liberally decorated the station, she successfully skid stepped across the asphalt only to land on her arse at the side of her car. At the very least the cushion of snow would reduce immediate brushing but Brienne couldn't help but grumble at how quickly the damp chill began working through layers of supposedly waterproof clothing.

Pulling herself up, she felt the first telltale tug of an upcoming yawn along her jaw, wondering for the fiftieth time if crashing at the firehouse would be a more sensible option than attempting the twenty minute drive home. Brienne knew it would be a bitter pill to swallow, her moment of need being added to an imaginary scorecard to be brought up ad nauseam by the same members of the crew who'd already disturbed her peace today.

Revving the engine sent wave after wave of warmth onto her knees, giving Brienne a moment or two to weigh up her options before making a move. On the plus side her snow tires were new, she'd be starting out in daylight if she left now and, if all else failed, her best friend was just five minutes away and would welcome Brienne with open arms, hot chocolate and a guest room more suited to a luxury bed and breakfast than a suburban semi. On the other hand, she knew there had been studies to show how exhaustion affected reaction times, fire and rescue put her in enough danger to tend towards being risk adverse in the rest of her life, and there was no telling how much damage she'd cause to her rusting car, or herself, should the winter decide to unleash another blast from any of the frozen hells when she was half way home.

"Next January I swear I'm taking an extended vacation in Dorne," Brienne muttered under her breath, having to fumble in three coat pockets before she retrieved what she was looking for, unwinding and unzipping all her unnecessary outdoor clothing as she went. The air filling her lungs had finally warmed enough not to feel like icy fingers clawing at her throat, though her own fingers weren't yet fully thawed as she plugged her scratched and silenced cell in to charge. From her current vantage point overlooking the main freeway linking city and countryside she noticed a convoy of snow ploughs heading in both directions, working on clearing the worst of the weather and her worries in one fell swoop.

"Okay, here goes nothing."

*******

It wasn't until she was a little over halfway home that Brienne realised she had vastly underestimated how much longer this particular journey was going to take her.

The main roads were clearer than the heavy snowfall had promised, public transport and nervous parents in gigantic gas guzzlers doing their part to help the ploughs melt and protect, but once she'd seen the last street light fade away to nothing in her rear view mirror, traffic speed and flow became a different story. She passed a couple of slow moving vehicles travelling back into the city and though neither paid her much attention their presence kept her journey from feeling too isolated. But she should have known the second she noticed _him_ join the road that anyone who could afford to use a five hundred thousand dragon status symbol on a normal Tuesday afternoon wouldn't have the same measured approach to cold weather driving.

One moment she was listening to the traffic and travel updates on her radio, the next a ridiculously handsome blond in an equally out of place cherry coloured convertible accelerated into the left hand lane. With at least one interior light shining like a beacon, and the added distraction from all the blinking and flashing state of the art gadgets littered across the central console, she could quite clearly see the curiously pointed stare that was sent her way.

For the longest of moments she wanted to slam her foot on the gas, throw caution to the wind and race him to the next mile marker. Her competitive edge had been worn away after giving up collegiate level softball some years ago but there was something about his face that made that fire come bubbling up again. It would be immensely hypocritical to react like that but there was no harm in letting her engine sendout a warning growl.

She wasn't sure if it was his parting shot of a casual but cutting smirk, the whoosh of air resistance or even patches of black ice that caused her to skid towards an abandoned, frozen field but whatever the reason Brienne was pleased to see her temporary travelling companion start to swerve down the right fork while she was staying left. But still she found herself holding her breath as the sports car took the bend at breakneck speed, barely even slowing down to adjust for the ice on the road, the rising moon the only thing illuminating the treacherous path ahead. The man was either supremely arrogant to think he could out manoeuvre the winter, and the wink he had sent her as he'd overtaken certainly didn't disprove that theory, or simply new to the area and wilfully ignorant to the wilder ways of the north. No one who'd spent a year in The Vale drove a lightweight convertible after October unless they wanted to cause an accident. And while she wasn't in the business of learning how or why fire and rescue incidents had happened, that didn't mean she lacked curiosity or a need for justice when there was blame to be handed out.

The smell of burning rubber found her nostrils right before she heard the crash, metal twisting and glass shattering, icicles and spilled petroleum mixing to form glistening rainbows of colour spreading across the tarmac as she brought her car to a stop, her heart beating a million miles a minute. She didn't have a team to back her up this time, for the first time, she was on her own.

"Call an ambulance," Brienne shouted to the shadowy figures hovering at the other side of the road as she sprinted along the verge, trying to rely on her training over any other instinctive actions her body might have wanted to act on. It wouldn't help anyone if she gave into the sudden urge to throw up. Slowly assessing the damage done under the blinding gleam of two sets of headlights, the road littered with expensive fibreglass shards, she came up with more problems than solutions. "Is anyone else hurt?"

"N-no," came the quivering reply, the woman ushering her crying children away from roadside as if she was expecting a sudden influx of traffic. "I-I don't think so."

"That's good," she breathed, wishing she'd had the foresight to pack her car with a few standard emergency supplies. Blankets. Pressure dressings. Even a band-aid would have given her some sense of control. "I promise we'll get you fully checked out but it's good that none of you feel off. Can you me your name?"

"Willow."

"Okay, Willow, you all need to try to stay warm and call an ambulance. Now," Brienne instructed, firm but gentle though there was nothing gentle about the way her stomach was churning, already mentally preparing herself for the carnage that likely awaited. He must have known that coming up against the green station wagon would have been like hitting a wall, tracks underfoot showing how hard he'd twisted to avoid hitting it full on, sheer velocity forcing the flashier model off into the undergrowth. "Tell them the accident happened about a mile past the old Arryn estate and you're with paramedic in training Brienne Tarth."

"You're a p-paramedic?"

"Where are you going? Are you l-leaving us to check on that man?"

"I'm not going far, I promise. Just call out if anything changes. I...We don't get to chose who we help."

*******

It took more than a couple of repetitions of that statement she'd given so confidently, like a song stuck spinning in her head, before Brienne felt calm enough to continue, having to ball her fists to stop her hands from shaking. She wasn't supposed to feel so out of her depth, she'd had training to deal with all the side effects of panic in the field.

"Don't move," she all but demanded, her voice booming into the evening air as the driver's side door swung open without warning. The front of the car had taken the brunt of the blow from what she could see with just the flashlight on her phone, approaching from the side almost making it seem like the crash had never happened. "We're...I'm going to get you out of here. Can you-?"

"And how exactly are you going to do that, hmmm? the blond interrupted, carefully watching her descend from the short grass running along the side of the road, through what was left of the more persistent weeds until she was knee deep in snow. It was uncomfortable how focused he stayed as she pushed forward, the cut above one of his eyes giving her something to stare at rather than wonder how close she needed to get before working out if those eyes were green or blue. "Did I somehow manage to end my shit show of a day within earshot of a tow truck?"

"You're going to need more than a tow truck," she replied, just loud enough that it was more for her own benefit than his. Brienne didn't add that portable car crushers weren't yet commonplace, chalking the nonsensical thought up to extenuating circumstances. "But there's an ambulance on the way."

"Most people would have left it at that. Make a call, give a damning statement, go home and pat themselves on the back for getting involved." His accent had the refined edge of someone who'd never wanted to be further north than Riverrun their entire life and with every word it set Brienne's shredded nerves more on edge. "I guess that makes you a proverbial Good Samaritan. How novel."

"You weren't in the blue car, were you?" he inquired as she dropped to her knees to better check where all the blood was coming from, fired up from battling spikes of panic and stubborn resolve to really notice the cold all that much. Though there had been little damage done to his good looks, the man still looked like he'd done ten rounds with a prize fighter. And no matter how much of an arsehole he might have been, he still had a lot more to complain about than she did, hissing in pain as she checked his neck and shoulders to find the tanned flesh beneath her palms tense and toned.

"I have to be thorough."

"Says who? And if you are the driver of the blue car, did you pick it for any other reason that it was cheap?"

When her response to his attempts to mess up her roadside assessment was to press a handful of, thankfully, clean tissues to his forehead while she used her scarf to bind his damaged hand, he smiled triumphantly. "Oh, gods, you were! You drive like an old lady."

"And you drive like a madman." Brienne didn't mean to go against regulations and berate the injured party but sparing a quick glance at the family still standing shivering in shock, despite there barely being a scratch on any of them, brought back a few too many painfully hazy memories to keep her thoughts to herself any longer. "What in the name of the Seven do you think you were doing?! You could have killed someone!"

"But I didn't," he coughed, ignoring her earlier advice by reaching down and unbuckling his seatbelt. "Not even myself though everything hurts like hells."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you telling me that this was-?"

"Gods, no," he interrupted vehemently. "The fact that you can even ask that means you have no idea who I am."

"Who are you, then?" she asked, hating the judgemental tone that had slipped into her words. "Playboy, royalty or just rich and dumb?"

"I usually go by Jaime Lannister."

She blinked. "We don't really have enough millionaires up here for your family to...don't tell me you're here for the skiing? There's been avalanche warnings for days."

"Well maybe some of us like living dangerously. And my brother prefers the aprés-ski anyway," he retorted, wincing again as she wrapped her scarf tighter around the scarlet streams that were slipping through the fingers of his right hand. Brienne was surprised he hadn't started to feel woozy with how quickly the blood was soaking through the woven plaid. "We can't all be as stubborn and somber as you."

"You don't know me," she muttered, less to keep the strange back and forth going than to keep him alert and talking, helping herself stay calm and grounded in the process. If she hadn't been right behind there was a chance this could have ended so differently with no knowing how soon another source of help would have arrived. "Another time, another place I-"

Jaime scoffed. "Like that wildling made rust bucket does more than fifty. You'd have never kept up."

"Is that why you nearly hit me? So you could make sure I'd stay out of your way?"

"If you hadn't kept braking for no good reason, maybe I wouldn't have needed to get that message across."

"If you weren't going so fast you wouldn't have been up my arse in the first place and would have had space to avoid-what?" she snapped, almost tempted to push him back against his seat if she hadn't been concerned about internal bleeding, exasperated beyond belief.

"Since you brought it up," he smiled sweetly, shuffling forward and cocking his head, "I should maybe check if your arse is a better sight than your face."

"Stranger, save me," Brienne rolled her eyes. The insult might not have been something she had heard before in those exact words but the delivery and tone certainly was. "You're the second, no third, person today who's felt the need to pass comment on the way I look. My hands, my freckles and now my arse. As far as I'm aware they don't hand out awards for rudeness even in high society."

"I like freckles."

"I don't care."

"You're lying," he said bluntly. "I've played enough poker in my youth to know the difference and you've got a face full of tells, sweetheart."

"Just because you played doesn't mean you were any good at it. And my name is Brienne, not 'sweetheart'."

"Brienne," he repeated, rolling her name around his mouth like he needed time to get used to the taste. "You're still lying. You care."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am...why are you so bothered by-"

"Have you been to Dragonstone?" His words were starting to slur, the hit of adrenaline sent coursing through his veins from the crash wearing off, the full extent of his injuries slowly coming to the surface. The delayed reaction had offered her a false sense of security, realisation sending a jolt of fear through her own muscles, wishing she'd put the call in herself rather than relying on a terrified bystander.

"T-The race track or the island?"

"Track. They do super duper monster truck days once a month. Valyrian, Myrish, Braavosi, pick your poison."

Brienne frowned. "Super cars?"

"If you're sure you can handle that kind of beast between your legs, of course," Jaime laughed, his eyes rolling back in his head as he attempted a mocking leer, leaving Brienne to watch panic replace amusement while the colour drained further from his skin. She could finally hear sirens increasing in volume but they were still a minute or so out.

"Is there any one you want us to call?" she asked, scrambling to remember procedure after they'd taken a major detour from the questions she was expected to run through with any injured party. 

"My brother. He's at The Golden-"

"Mr Lannister? Mr Lannister?"

When he didn't reply, his lashes fluttering against the darkening circles under his eyes as the seconds ticked by, she slid her cold, trembling fingers down his neck on the hopeful hunt for a pulse. On discovering a slow but steady beat lurking beneath the silver tinged bead decorating his jaw, she almost swore in relief. "You're making my night go from bad to worse," she muttered to herself, beyond grateful that a fully stocked ambulance was just around the corner. "And for future reference just because you're rich and pretty doesn't mean you can do what you want all the time. Slow the fuck down or stay out of my town."

"We'll take it from here, Brienne," a familiar voice followed the sound of sirens being cut off, red and blue lights flashing in the snow like she was surrounded by a mountain of neon coloured slushies. "Just give me a quick rundown of what you've got for us."

"Three walk ins, one major," she confirmed, feeling unsteady on her feet as Davos and Gendry started the process of removing a motionless Jaime from the ruined car, checking his vitals and hooking him up to warming fluids as they went. "The lady and her kids need to be checked over but they haven't complained of any side effects from the collision."

"And the major?" Davos prompted, following her up the slippery verge and back onto the road. She didn't recognise the second ambulance crew loading Willow and her little ones into the back of their van, but she was glad they still looked no worse for wear. She might just have done the right thing sticking with Jaime Lannister.

"White male, late thirties, multiple broken bones and injuries associated with a high speed impact. Excessive blood loss from a wound to the right hand. Possible concussion. Was alert and talking at the scene but has...he has since lost..." Brienne trailed off, running out of breath before she could get through everything on her list. Surely she'd done the right thing. "Consciousness. He asked if I could call his brother."

"I'll let the doctors know there's a next of kin contact should they need it," Davos nodded. "Text me the name and number and I'll pass it on when we get to Gen."

"I didn't get it before..."

"It's okay, it's not often we get to that point with motor vehicle collisions. You did everything you could under the circumstances."

Brienne wasn't sure that was the truth of the matter but was too drained to explain why she'd spent the last ten minutes arguing with a bleeding man. "He's a Lannister. Jaime Lannister."

"That makes things easier," Davos replied, waving at the police car that had just pulled in behind them. "I'll see if someone at the hospital can't track the brother down. And, Brienne?"

"Yes?"

"Give your statement and go home, have a drink. Call a friend if you need to but don't spend all night worrying about this. You did good, lass, remember that."

No matter what came next, and she expected that would include a few long days memorising her manuals and workbooks, Brienne promised herself that she would at least try not to worry about a man she'd never see again.


	2. February: Cactus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brienne recieves a gift and has to deal with more than one unwanted admirers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for all your comments and kudos on the first chapter! It's completely blown me away how much you've enjoyed the first meeting of this version of Jaime and Brienne and I really do hope you enjoy what's to come just as much.
> 
> This chapter was definitely the most difficult to write and although it goes in a bit of a different direction, hopefully it isn't too much of a disappointment.

If it hadn't have been Maiden's Day, the day Brienne liked to forget existed despite her friends' determination to talk about it until her distaste for the fake holiday had solidified into a burning hatred, perhaps no one else would have taken much notice of the cactus delivered to the station just as the day and night crews were changing over. It wasn't much to look at, but someone had gone to great lengths to try and pretty up the tall, pale plant, wrapping it in gold and red ribbons and adding a name tag which hung like a misspelled beacon from one of the prickly branches.

"Happy Maiden's Day," the young woman from Shae's Florists beamed, struggling to hand over the heavyweight terracotta plant pot. "Are you by any chance Brianne?"

"Almost," she admitted, frowning as she turned over the tag looking for any clues it could give her as to who had decided she would appreciate a gift on today of all days. It wasn't that she didn't like plants, she'd bought an end of terrace house instead of an apartment primarily for the outside space, it was surprises she wasn't too fond of. They just never seemed to end well for anyone.

Her dad was always handing over seeds or cuttings from the best blooming plants in his extensive garden, but despite becoming one of the most absent minded visiting professors to grace the halls of Gulltown University even he would know better than to ask his latest research assistant to pick out gifts for his daughter. Besides sending things to the firehouse always came with an element of chance, which Selwyn was well aware of, and without a receptionist parcels ran the risk of being damaged, eaten or otherwise misplaced.

"I don't think I've ever been to this part of town before," the florist replied, making mindless small talk while she searched for the right page for Brienne to mark in her signing book. "There's a really cute little park about a block over that my kids would love to play in. If the schools are half as good, I might have to start thinking about moving again."

"They are," Brienne blurted out without necessarily wanting to get drawn into a long conversation, though every moment she dragged her feet at the desk was one less she had to spend in the kitchen explaining her 'secret admirer' to the crew. "I mean I don't have kids myself but my friend teaches at one of the elementary schools here and she's always going on about how it's the best place she's ever been in."

"My husband wants to send them away to some fancy independent place near Lannisport but I've always preferred a community setting even if the schools in Lorath weren't all good," she laughed, the slight melodic lilt in her voice emphasised as she mentioned the city she must have grown up in. "I guess that's what I get for marrying a rich man. Would you mind if I took the name of your friend's school? Do some research before I bring it up with Tyr."

"Gates of the Moon Elementary. She's the vice principal there. I'm sure Margaery wouldn't mind setting up a visit."

Margaery Tyrell, Brienne's best friend since Highgarden College had decided they both needed to expand their social circles and placed them in the same room, was now an outstanding third grade educator and definitely the type to send flowers just because she could. But the bouquet she'd send would be meaningful like yellow roses or blue tulips not anything that needed less attention than a house pet. She would have picked the most exotic orchid Shae's Florists had in stock rather than something that stood out for all the wrong reasons.

"Amazing, thank you," she smiled again, juggling with her phone and the log book. "Now if you could just sign on the dotted line, I'll get out of your hair."

"You're not allowed to tell me who put this order in, are you?"

She sent up an enigmatic look, a half smile playing with her lips. "Have a nice day, almost Brianne!"

"You, too," Brienne mumbled instinctively, her mind otherwise occupied with running through the names of anyone else who might want to send her a non-stereotypical Maiden's Day gift and finding she had to discount them one by one. There wasn't really more than a handful of people she spoke to regularly outside of work, preferring not to socialise alongside the same guys she spent nearly fifty hours a week with in one small space or another.

She'd even gone as far as staying away from social media for the most part, exceptions being made for official fundraising events and her dad's traveling seminar series. Just because her college cohort had scattered across the seven kingdoms after graduation, only Margaery migrating north when the woman her friend had become serious about gained a place on the nursing programme at Arryn General, it didn't mean Brienne wanted to know what any of those cruel coeds were getting up to five years on.

Starting to rip away all the unnecessary decoration as soon as the petite brunette slipped out of sight, Brienne almost jumped out of her skin as an unexpected hand tapped her on the shoulder in the same moment the name tag bounced out of the overflowing waste basket subtly concealed beneath the reception desk.

"They got your name wrong," Hyle Hunt, king of the obvious and driver of Brienne's least favourite truck, pointed out, leaning over to pick through what she'd been trying her best to discard. "That's not really the best way to get a second date in my experience. Even the one night stands usually like to be remembered come the morning. And it's not as if anyone could say you're not memorable, Brie."

"It wasn't...I don't-" Brienne spluttered, failing to stop him from drawing his own conclusions.

"A secret admirer then," he decided with a smile that lit up his plain features. "Though I would have sent flowers. Roses for Maiden's Day, isn't that the way? Or is that too cliché?"

"I don't think I'm the best person to answer that," she said as she tried to get him to look anywhere but into her eyes, knowing without scrutinising the situation that he didn't have half the natural charm of the last man who'd studied her in a similar vein. "My...my..."

Brienne blinked until she forgot what she wanted to say, only half hearing Hyle move past what little he knew about flowers and start droning on about a new sports bar that had opened downtown, the thought surprising her more than she'd ever admit. The Jaime Lannister incident hadn't really crossed her mind all that often since she'd finished driving home that cold, January night and burst into tears, though his accident had been splashed all over the tabloid front pages for days. It appeared wealth and privacy weren't synonymous even in The Vale. She only hoped whatever minor celebrity status the press had granted Jaime had helped hospital staff locate his brother without much of a struggle. No matter how reckless or conceited or disagreeable he'd been, no one deserved to wake up in there alone.

It had stayed off her mind so much that she certainly hadn't gone out of her way to offer Margaery's girlfriend a lift home from the hospital every day the previous week just to see if she could check up on Jaime during visiting hours. Brienne hadn't made it past the front desk, chickening out time after time, but she had left an unmarked fruit basket with the security guard on her last visit.

"...I've never minded a bit of healthy competition. Do you play pool?"

"Not really," she shook her head, half in disbelief, half to prevent Jaime Lannister from intruding any further on her time. "Aren't you...Didn't Pod walk in on you and Mya in the storage closet last week?"

He shrugged. "If you don't have a problem with it neither should she. Experience has got to count for something, right?"

Brienne folded her arms across her chest, not prepared to repeat past mistakes when it came to letting Hyle Hunt down gently. He hadn't been shy about telling her how her family name could open doors for him in the world of large scale land management, arrogantly explaining that firefighting was only something he did to pay the bills than actually making an effort to make her feel wanted beyond being a means to what he perceived was a comfortable, worry free life.

"So? Friday night?"

"I've got plans," she replied without missing a beat, comfortable enough to count catching up on The Great Westeros Bake Off with Margaery and Sansa at the end of the week as something she looked forward to.

"Saturday?"

"No. And not next week either or the week after that or the week after that. You know it should be enough that you've got Mya, who at least seems to do more than tolerate having you around, but still you want and want. There's going to come a day when you're going to want yourself right out of this job and have nowhere else to go."

"And that's the problem right there. You don't have enough experience to know," he continued agreeably, completely missing the point by not listening to what was being said. "If all lips were made for kissing, yours included, it seems a shame to let them go to waste."

"Try anything and you'll regret it," she spat back, walking away from him with the cactus still tucked into the crook of her elbow. At some point every idiot who thought they were signing up to the fire and rescue service for glory and girls realised that careless mistakes couldn't happen when there were lives on the line. Hyle wasn't exactly a new recruit, not like Podrick who'd been a frequent visitor to their open days before joining them the second he finished high school, so she could only hope that day came without too much loss or guilt.

"What have you got there, Tarth?"

"If that's what I think it is, imagination sucks. Chocolate would have been a better choice."

"Who in the hells would send us a cactus? Anyone been especially prickly recently?"

A chorus of voices greeted Brienne as she walked into the break room, long past irritated but not quite furious, slamming the pot down on the neatest flat surface and sighing. "Does it look like I know? It's not like it came with a handwritten note preempting all your questions."

"What are we supposed to do with it if it didn't come addressed to anyone?"

"D-Do what you want with it," she awkwardly side stepped what would have been an obvious and terribly delivered lie, not quite sure she'd achieved her mission with all the curious looks now being sent her way. "I can't be the only one to notice how cluttered it is out front with everything Alysanne decided to donate when she left."

"She was supposed to be coming back," piped up someone from the back of the room, their voice muffled behind the fridge door. "It's not her fault that that holiday ended with her getting whisked off her feet by that fancy Dornish Lord."

No, Brienne silently agreed, it wasn't Alysanne's fault that she looked the way she did and her life had become a romance novel from one chance encounter. That sort of thing didn't happen every day or she wouldn't be stuck with brushing off Hyle's advances on a semi regular basis. Even being left understaffed wouldn't have bothered Brienne all that much if only a list of important numbers had been pinned up somewhere before the girl had decided sunshine and sex were more important than serving the community. "Just someone please tell me we're getting closer to appointing a new receptionist."

Pod was the only one to nod, replying between bites of bacon and scrambled eggs, the youngest member of the team always grateful that the firehouse had a fully stocked kitchenette. "The Chief sent the ad to HR a couple of days ago. He asked me to call and check they'd received it."

"That's probably the best thing I've heard all day. I-"

She didn't have a chance to finish her thought as the warning klaxon sounded throughout the building, dispatch announcing who, where and what was needed so that the cacophony of noise gave way to a flurry of activity, two trucks and an ambulance departing to the fire on the other side of the mountain mere minutes later, the ugly cactus placed on a windowsill to be forgotten.

*******

Pia Peckledon had barely completed her condensed orientation a full week later when a second delivery turned up from Shae's, the miniature lemon tree only serving to further irritate and confuse its intended recipient. Though as she paraded yet another unwanted gift through the station, Brienne realised it was past time she faced up to the consequences of saving the life of a Lannister as there was no telling what thinly veiled botanical insult would come after bitter and ugly. 

She just wasn't sure she was ready to see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Jaime and Brienne will be back in the same room next chapter.
> 
> I'll update next Sunday :)


	3. March: Drinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime, Brienne and a cocktail bar. What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all the lovely comments and continued support for this story! It does alleviate some of my anxiety about how it's not up to the same standard of my previous fics. 
> 
> Really sorry for any mistakes in this, I've been fighting a terrible headache and can't really stare at my screen for too long. I hope there's not too many :(
> 
> PS: I appear to have edited out a line where Jaime clips Brienne's car during the time he overtook her in the first chapter. This is what comes of anxiously over editing, lol. Can we just go with that, please?

Brienne tapped her fingers nervously along the edge of the counter, waiting for the bartender to mix the uncomplicated drink she'd ordered just to try and look like she belonged until this waking nightmare could be drawn to a close. The raspberry liqueur was bitter on her tongue, the carbonated bubbles tickling the back of her throat as she slowly sipped the house special, though even tightening her grip on the long stem glass didn't stop her free hand from subconsciously playing the melody of a concerto Brienne assumed had been long forgotten. It was, after all, over fifteen years since she had taken piano lessons with Mrs Roelle, back when snow was still an abstract concept, the woman going out of her way week after week to make sure Brienne knew how useless and clumsy and stupid she was for not learning as quickly as the other children her age. And although she couldn't remember every word that had been said in that small room, every now and again, when her anxieties became something physical, Brienne felt like she was nine years old again trying to remember the next note.

She tapped again, slipping into something raw and radio friendly that she was failing to find enough time to teach herself properly, almost reaching the crescendo of a chorus before a sudden breeze at her back caused her to spin gracelessly in her stool, goosebumps running down her spine like marching soldiers on a mission. As she caught sight of an unfamiliar couple loitering in the entrance, laughing and shaking off droplets of rain, she cursed the pounding of her heart and the warmth threatening to blossom beneath her skin.

Brienne wasn't sure what buttons he was trying to push by asking her to a meeting of obligation in what was clearly a high end cocktail bar, but hate probably shouldn't have been amongst the waves of emotion that kept surging in and out of her head. She all of a sudden absolutely hated him, the rich and famous trust fund backed banker, for keeping her on tenterhooks as overdressed and overpaid clientele slipped out of the spring showers two by two, heading to their tables with drinks in hand whispering about the unfortunate looking girl who'd been stood up at the bar.

He'd been adamant they meet somewhere they would both be anonymous, strangers passing again like ships in the night, otherwise any remaining insurance information would have been exchanged over coffee at the nearest Hot Pie's diner. She could have even gone back to work once they had drawn a final line under everything without the sneaking suspicion that combining low light, free flowing alcohol and a strict dress code would somehow add yet another string to his bow of mockery.

"You're either sending out Morse code signals or trying out for the philharmonic in the morning. I'm not sure which I would find more interesting from my Good Samaritan if I'm being honest."

Her skin prickled as the seat to her left was finally claimed by a proudly smirking golden demigod, feeling uneasy and exposed as Jaime Lannister inspected the nervous tension escaping through her dancing fingers. He made no attempt to apologise for making her wait, enough time passing since their agreed upon rendezvous for Brienne to start believing she was going to be the punch line to another cruel joke. Though, with his every movement unknowingly catching the eye of one girl or another in the half full room, there was still no escape from the echoes of increasingly interested chatter.

"Why exactly was it so important that we meet tonight, Mr Lannister?" she asked, her hands falling into her lap. "Your assistant made it sound like it couldn't wait."

"My father's assistant," Jaime corrected, pulling a face which may have meant something if Brienne had paid more attention to the Lannister family before the crash. There had always been too many rumours circling to know which ones held even a little bit of truth, her own father's most stoic colleagues amongst those prone to speculate when deep in their cups, but her refusal to participate in such mindless gossip left her nothing to do but stare at him blankly.

"I don't know why it was so important-"

"Gods, you really are just as pigheaded as I remember. And surprisingly much uglier under these lights."

She held his gaze for several long seconds as the words left his mouth, watching Jaime stretch and smirk and attract the attention of the bartender without a word. He wouldn't be the first to find fault in her looks, but he might be the quickest to wound with nothing more than a well aimed smile. And there was more than one sorority sister on her softball team. "I don't know what you're trying to prove, but if you just wanted to insult me again you could have done that in writing or over the phone."

"If that was the only reason we needed to talk, I certainly could have sent an email," Jaime agreed, looking like the proverbial cat after he'd caught the canary as he read each and every emotion flashing like news bulletins across her face. "Do you think I don't have anything better to do on a Friday night then hang out in a place like this?"

"If it's really that bad, why did you pick it?"

"It wasn't my first choice."

Condescension and disdain reached out to fill the prolonged silence as her mouth opened and no sound escaped, not being able to pick from the hundreds of questions that were now running through her head. Each one would have likely done nothing but give him further ammunition and keep them both locked in cocktail limbo longer than either wanted, though that didn't mean she wasn't interested in the answers, murmurings around them fading as advantages were pressed and lost in the blink of an eye.

In the end it was Jaime who surprisingly broke first, though if his delivered drink hadn't come in a glass that was too heavy for his underused left hand, requesting it to be slid across the polished bar as if he was trying to impress her, maybe their battle of wills would have stayed close to stalemate all night.

Brienne allowed herself a small smile as he cursed each and all of the seven hells when the glass ended in his lap, rich bourbon quickly soaked up by the equally expensive material of his shirt. She didn't know if it was catching another, closer, glimpse of his extensively bandaged right hand or the contours of well defined stomach muscles that caused the amusement to disappear just as quickly as it has arrived.

"Stranger, save me," she whispered to no one in particular, stumbling off her stool to retrieve Jaime's empty glass as he finished wringing out the excess alcohol and furiously threw a piece of coloured paper in front of her.

Brienne eyed the cheque warily, if any part of this was a game to him, she wasn’t about going to join in. “I don’t need anything from you. I'm not a charity case, I haven't gone to the press and-"

"Believe me," Jaime growled, cutting her off before she ran through the rest of her reasoning. "Charity is the last thing I'd extend right now. If it hurts your pride so much think of it as repaying a debt. A Lannister is worth millions on the open market."

"That might be but you still owe me nothing." Brienne took another glance at the lion embossed paper like it would bite if she touched it and nervously flicked her eyes back to Jaime's chiselled features. "And even if you did, it certainly wouldn't be that much. I was just doing my job."

"You can't really be that stupid," he hissed, his voice dropping so low that Brienne had to lean in a little too close to hear his next words. "Tywin wanted to ensure you'd keep your mouth shut and The Board agreed. I doubt they'd believe a grown woman was so innocent not to know what The Bloody Mummers would do if they found out you helped me. And I'm not talking about messing with the wiring in your car."

There was nothing tender in his tone, nothing to indicate that Jaime really cared about the gang of enforcers creeping into The Vale but, as she remembered Margaery repeating her grandmother's harebrained conspiracy theories about Lannister involvement in a few less than savoury business deals, Brienne found she was torn between nodding and shaking her head. If the accident really wasn't Jaime's fault, and all evidence to support that idea had been destroyed in the crash, she had no right to start planning a multi city tour of Essos with what he was offering her to keep quiet, something she was already doing for free.

"I can't accept your money, Mr Lannister, but I thank you anyway."

His smile started out smug, both at her and the equally flustered girl finally getting around to replacing his drink, but it was quickly replaced by something softer, a glimmer of respect shining through. Most people would take the money and run, she realised as Jaime turned the cheque into worthless confetti, making sure Brienne was watching closely like it was some kind of magic trick to make that much money disappear.

"You stopped me from bleeding out at the side of the road, you should really call me 'Jaime'."

"Jaime," she repeated automatically, his name coming out of her mouth feeling odd and intimate despite it being in her head for months. Brienne was beginning to feel a little queasy, like being on a repetitively spinning fairground ride, but put on a brave face as she pulled back to a sensible distance. "If there's anything else you want to share, my insurance company would be happy to deal with it. Or maybe you could swallow your own pride and actually call the police. I've had...I should head home."

"Why? I can't think there's anyone actually waiting up for you."

"In the real world, Jaime," she replied through gritted teeth, the irritation she was trying to keep at bay heating her face almost quicker than embarrassment could. "In the real world people don't have trust funds and family corporations to rely on."

His disgustingly preternatural green eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. "I can't remember if you actually got around to sharing what you do in the real world last time. Obviously you know about me, so it almost doesn't seem fair that you're not willing to give me a little something in return."

She took and held a breath as she retrieved a couple of bills from her jacket pocket to pay for the almost untouched drink, reminding herself how verbal barbs couldn't pierce the armour that had taken years to put together, as Jaime sipped from his glass and waited.

"Not that it's really any of your business," she promised, noticing him raising an eyebrow as if arrogantly granting permission, and the rest of the sentence left her mouth in a rush. "But I work for The Vale's Fire and Rescue Service."

Jaime ran a guarded but almost appreciative eye over the muscles her sleepless shift dress had left uncovered across her shoulders and arms, looking but not yet commenting on the lack of softness covering her chest and hips. His tongue darted across his lips almost subconsciously as sarcasm slowly dripped liked falling honey out of every pore. "Gods, you really are a fucking hero.”

"I just do what I'm paid and trained for," Brienne glared as his grin stretched wider, furious that he would try to turn her vocation into a joke but angrier at herself for thinking it was just pain and shock that had made Jaime Lannister act like an arsehole.

“I can’t imagine there are many women in that line of work," he continued casually, his eyes travelling slowly over her shoulders and chest again, the inference clear that there wasn't anything particularly feminine about what he could see from that angle.

"More than you think but I don’t see why any of that should matter to you if our business here is done.”

“I'd only like to know if there's a reason why you want to throw yourself into harm’s way on a daily basis. Did someone Big Brienne cared about refuse to be saved?"

"I-I shouldn’t have come tonight," Brienne took one last look at him as she stood, Jaime clearly pleased that he had pushed her to a point where she didn’t want to hear another word that twisted and swirled languidly past his lips, finally listening to well honed instincts that were screaming for her to leave and never return. "I don't know what I was thinking. Good night, Mr Lannister."

She removed her arm out of his reach should he try to stop her from ducking out early, quickly covering the distance to the door in several long strides, the uncomfortable skirt swishing in her wake. Jaime might have called out, the words 'forgive me' tickling at her consciousness, though they could have come from any corner of the rapidly filling room. Brienne felt the blood pound through her veins, equal parts fury and unwanted disappointment that he'd gotten under her skin so easily, focusing on the former, more familiar sensation even as the spring air hit and cooled her burning skin.

******

The next gift arrived on schedule two days later. Only that time instead of being an addition to their growing army of plants, Jaime had sent her an apology note alongside a pair of sapphire blue daisies and a tiny gold lion.


	4. April: Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You've got some nerve," Brienne called out across the space, stepping into the elements and feeling drenched to the skin within seconds. "Why send a child to say your piece when you're more than capable of calling me out yourself?"
> 
> "Did he ask you about cats?" Jaime sounded as distant as he had during the last few days of the trial, as if he was only responding to every other word, never looking away from the air ambulance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still beating myself up about the mistake in the last chapter, but all of this story is written so I'll continue to post as long as there are people who are enjoying reading it. Please let me know if you're happy with the one chapter per week approach or if it would be better to have this updated more or less often.
> 
> I'm so sorry if there's anything that doesn't make sense in here. Hopefully it's not out of character.

Following the cocktail bar incident that had taken Brienne out of her normal comfort zone on entirely false pretences, allowing judgment to be passed by more than just laughing green eyes, she decided that if she never talked to Jaime Lannister again it would be much too soon.

Although Margaery had wanted copious details after she'd driven Brienne home, noticing the angry blonde storm out of the bar as she was coincidentally finishing dinner with her grandmother across the street, years of friendship had taught the Tyrell girl when not to push. But it took no time at all before it seemed that even the gods were on the side of privilege instead of favouring hard work and loyalty.

Barely two weeks after Jaime attempted to buy her silence between insults, Brienne's trustworthy car shuddered to a halt one more time than her mechanic would easily be able to fix. She was late to work for the first time ever on the morning it broke down, in the most inconvenient place possible, and while waiting for the tow truck she couldn't help but consider how much simpler her life choices had been before January. As the heavens opened above her, splitting the sky with a leonine roar, Brienne quietly cursed and wondered if having a face of a fallen angel was part of whatever deal Jaime had made with the universe in order to annoy her from across the kingdom. The plants and flowers were still being gifted at least once a week, sometimes with notes that were barely legible but mostly without. And though Brienne didn't really want to exasperate whatever childish thrill he was getting out of the arrangement, she found sending the uglier ones back made her feel a lot better. Though after a heated discussion at the garage and a bill that was somewhere in the region of her quarterly rent, followed by a frustrating conversation with her insurance company who flat out refused to support her putting in two claims before the year was even halfway through, there was little that could have improved her mood once Brienne realised she may need a little help from a certain blond after all.

Since Jaime's last note had, once again, mentioned something about a 'Lannister always paying his debts', Brienne sucked up her pride and called. She couldn't see his grin as she was put through to The Casterly Foundation, but it was so apparent it reached almost audible levels. Jaime got a few good hits in before she interrupted, asking after the gold lion and dropping an innuendo that left Brienne glad he couldn't watch her blush, the rehearsed questions becoming stutters as she seethed silently at his ability to once again get under her skin. But even with 'shit for honour', his words not hers, Jaime made sure a replacement car was provided for as long as she needed it. She promised to return it to him within the month.

She always sent the unwanted gifts and accompanying notes after that conversation, so it fell to yet another strange twist of fate to force Brienne to consider seeing or talking to Jaime again.

Following a manhunt that had taken place across all of the Seven Kingdoms, the head of The Bloody Mummers, Vargo Hoat, had finally been taken into custody. Although it wouldn't be unlikely that a case against the gang had been building for years, the speed at which it was pushed into a court room and onto television screams screamed of Lannister influence. But when the only member of that family who Brienne had any real opinion about finally took the stand to give evidence, it actually gave her a chance to look at Jaime properly without fear of being mocked. And above everything else, beyond wealth and arrogance and beauty, he looked exhausted.

She only listened to an answering machine message that day, courage disappearing as his voice tore into her rationality, but there was a returned missed call from Jaime the next morning along with a small oak tree dumped outside the fire station, in retaliation or perhaps recognition of her call. Day after day Brienne watched him jump from nonchalant to angry to bitter while summing up a single icy January night, every second flirting outrageously with the camera, leaving her feeling riled up enough to want to run until her lungs ached.

Brienne was warned about the likelihood of being called to give evidence, but on a particularly damp and blustery afternoon she could only gasp as her witness statement was read out anonymously. Jaime smiled through his general state of apathy like he could picture confused blue eyes watching, silently challenging her to do something.

Brienne didn't hang up the next time she listened to his voice asking her to leave a message, something possessing her to tell Jaime to stop hiding behind jokes and take revenge for what happened to his hand. She went to bed that night angrier than ever, not even her colleague's inappropriate jokes could touch her like Jaime's looks did, dreaming of teaching the Lannister heir a few hard truths.

Those lessons never came though, as when Jaime inevitably returned her call Brienne spent the time countering his insults before throwing back a few sharp suggestions of her own. He looked like he'd at least slept the next day as she found herself glued to the television, even if his beard was starting to get out of control. They spoke every few days after that, something strange and antagonistically friendly, though she remained too unsure about their shifting relationship to ask Jaime outright about his recently published military record. The media were circling, acting like they could now sentence him for awful things that happened when she was still in elementary school, and at times it felt like Jaime was only arguing with her to distance himself from the wolves at the door. She realised quickly there were few people he truly cared about, so it shocked Brienne to find he was the first to contact her after a warehouse blaze she'd battled all day was reported on the evening news.

"Of course you're too pigheaded to let something as insignificant as fire get the better of you," Jaime laughed sarcastically as Brienne growled at him for waking her up. He only mirthfully told her not to dream about him and left her to glare at the dial tone.

Their unusually argumentative phone conversations became such a regular occurrence that weeks later when Brienne thought she heard a familiar voice during the annual fire department family open day, she assumed it was only some sort of strange aftershock. But in between operational drills and fire safety demonstrations, she became aware of the distinct possibility that somebody was watching her more intently than any member of her tour groups.

"One of the things we're going to show you next is how firefighters deal with road traffic collisions," Brienne took a steading breath as one of the younger children in the group raised his hand. "I'm sorry, do you have a question?"

The boy shook his head, emerald green eyes both apologetic and excited. "My uncle has been mumbling all day that we shouldn't be listening to you because you're stubborn and naïve."

Coming from an older child it would have sounded rehearsed, but Brienne gave him the benefit of the doubt and returned his smile. He took that as permission to continue, words pitched only a little above a whisper as he came to stand a little closer. "I don't know why Uncle Jaime doesn't like you. You seem really nice and you rescue cats from trees."

"Sometimes," she agreed pleasantly, feeling vindicated that her imagination hadn't been playing tricks on her earlier. "Do you think I could maybe have a word with your uncle when my friend is showing you the engines?"

"I don't think he was really trying to be mean," he told her, mulling over her suggestion with a second of hesitation. "My brother makes my sister cry when he says mean things."

"It's ok, Jaime won't make me cry," Brienne tried to remember the kind of promises she made when she was a child, not seeing how any oath she made could be broken in the future. "Cross my heart."

"I think he went to look at the helicopter."

Brienne tried to express her thanks but the group had already moved on to leave her standing by herself in the noisy garage. Glancing out of the open doors and towards the non departmental vehicles arranged outside, she noticed that the earlier drizzle had intensified into pouring rain and the only person still lingering around was a tall, soaked, bearded blond.

"You've got some nerve," Brienne called out across the space, stepping into the elements and feeling drenched to the skin within seconds. "Why send a child to say your piece when you're more than capable of calling me out yourself?"

"Did he ask you about cats?" Jaime sounded as distant as he had during the last few days of the trial, as if he was only responding to every other word, never looking away from the air ambulance. "You know, I think this might be the same tin can that ferried me to that specialist in Winterfell."

"Why did you...? How did you...?" Brienne couldn't get one question out before another took it's place on her lips, not wanting to accept Jaime butting into another aspect of her life. "This is a community event and you don't even live around here."

"Do you get paid extra for the attitude?" Jaime turned, raising an eyebrow as he stared at and then past her. "The flyer said everyone was welcome and I thought that my seven year old nephew might like to see a fire engine up close."

"There are other stations open today."

"Really? Your advertising needs a lot of work if that's the case." She could see he was fighting the urge to look at the helicopter again, choosing instead to occupy himself with watching as rainwater formed droplets in her straw blonde hair.

Feeling more than a little lost for words, which wasn't an unfamiliar sensation, Brienne attempted to be as gentle with Jaime as she had been with the children. "I read about what happened after the trial. It wasn't fair that they went after you like that."

"All that and I still didn't get to see you blush and stumble over your witness statement." He had spun away from her again, his jibe only half hearted. "It's all true though, whatever you've read. There's a law against defamation of character. At least there is if you're a Lannister."

Brienne wiped the sodden hair off her face, trying to process the sudden change in the air. "You killed a man."

"I've killed a lot of men, you're going to have to be a little more specific."

"In the army. You murdered your commanding officer."

"I did."

Brienne bit into her lip, forgetting about the pouring rain and sitting down in the wet grass that ran along the edge of the parking lot. "How did something like that stay hidden for twenty years?"

"Military court martial. Family reputation. Good behaviour," Jaime reluctantly joined her on the ground. "Take your pick."

"Why did you do it?" She didn't quite expect him to tell her the whole truth, but she had to ask.

"Brienne." Despite losing count of the phone calls they had shared, that was one of the few times Jaime had referred to her by name. There was a pain in her stomach like a wall had been ripped down without either of them realising it had been put up. "You must have seen death working here, things you wanted to change."

"There's people we haven't been able to save. I still wouldn't kill-"

"To save a life? How about to save a village? A city? You and your godsdamn honour would just walk away and watch as it all turned to ash?"

"No...I-I don't know."

"You're so innocent," Jaime spat out last the word like it was something to be pitied and she recoiled a little from the venom in his tone. "But I made my choice a long time ago. I pulled that trigger and a city didn't have to burn. Maybe a better man would have done something differently, but a better man wouldn't have been a Lannister." He took a good look at her, avoiding everything but her eyes, soaked through and starting to shiver. "I really don't blame anyone for hating me."

"I don't hate you," Brienne replied without thinking, blushing as soon as she realised the words were in the air. "Not anymore."

Jaime raised an eyebrow in surprise, bitter anger dissipating as he offered a hand in near surrender. "I'm wet and tired and if you want to judge me further, go ahead. But, if you want to try something different, what do you think about calling a truce?"

"You need trust for a truce."

"You saved my life. I trust you."

Brienne took his hand carefully, not realising how soon the feeling would become mutual.


	5. May: Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April showers bring May flowers.
> 
> Or where we move from enemies to friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who commented last week and let me know that they'd like more than one chapter a week. That was the plan this week, but some personal stuff got in the way. From now on I'll be putting up a chapter on Wednesday and Sunday. Comments will be replied to tomorrow :)
> 
> I hope you like this chapter, they're definitely making a move from enemies to friends now.

"Jaime?" Her voice rose and wobbled a little as Brienne moved through the syllables of his name, the single word becoming a question she hadn't meant to ask.

"Brienne?" He stared back at her over a half full coffee cup, a chance run in at a café part way between his office and the fire station becoming an unlikely battle ground to work out the terms of their truce. She still didn't understand why Jaime had trusted a girl he barely knew with one of his deepest secrets, but as the days turned to weeks and they found themselves at the same table morning after morning, she'd found just enough courage to let go of some of her own. The story of the fire junior year at High Garden College never got easier no matter how many times she told it, but Jaime seemed to understand the significance it held and tried to limit himself to quips about her ridiculous taste in men. Brienne wondered later, had she been softer or prettier or helpless, if Jaime would have let her cry on his shoulder instead of waiting for each word to become a fight with emotions she'd buried some time ago.

He sang out her name again, like it had suddenly become his favourite song, cutting through the swirl of thoughts in her head. "If you want something you might as well come out with it. I haven't got all day to wait for you to fumble towards another question."

Brienne drummed her fingers along the side of the cup, although it had been a while since she had felt truly awkward in Jaime's presence, and sped through the explanation in a single exhale. "My father's being given an award at the weekend and he implied it would be nice if I brought someone."

"And of course you thought of me."

Brienne wasn't sure if the smugness in Jaime's voice was fuelled by pride or disgust or something else entirely, shrugging as the steaming dark liquid in front of her became more interesting than strands of gold or amused glinting green. "Margaery's busy."

"I'm not sure how much action that face of yours manages to attract, but there are these things called dates..."

Her head flew up to find the corner of Jaime's mouth raised along with an eyebrow, throughly enjoying encouraging her blushes to make an appearance. "I'm not interested in boring a date to death."

The twitch turned into a wide smile. "So that makes me what? Expendable?"

"No," she replied, suddenly serious. "You're a survivor."

Brienne watched Jaime pause as he ran two fingers around the top of his cup, licking the leftover foam off them in what felt like slow motion. "I just wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong impression about us."

"I don't like you like that," she choked and swallowed, trying desperately to ignore the way his small gesture had affected her. The glint in Jaime's eye softened as he watched her burn hotter and shuffle uncomfortably, her stomach feeling like it was boarding a twisting and turning roller coaster. "In fact I'm not even sure why I should like you at all. Aren't you the same man who used to send me cacti?"

"You've already mentioned that. I'll have to add repetitive to the list of your faults, right under stubborn," he replied while she glared as fiercely as she could in that moment, considering throwing a handful of cookie crumbs at his far too attractive face. Though even that wouldn't have stopped Jaime from keeping his clever retorts to himself. "Are you expecting me to say 'yes' because we're kind of friends now?"

"Don't feel obligated. I've gone to these events on my own before."

"And yet you still asked me. I'm sure your shadow at the fire station would have gone with you if he'd known. Hunt seems very interested from what I've heard," he shot back. "So when is it?"

"Saturday. At Evenfall Hall."

"The safari park?"

"It's a wildlife sanctuary," Brienne corrected firmly. "My dad likes to keep some of the wolves around before they're returned to the wild so he has some aspect of animal behaviour to teach, but other than a lot of deer and some birds of prey we haven't got anything exciting."

"We've?" Jaime grinned at catching the slip, pushing the now empty cup away to allow Brienne to become the sole focus of his attention. "I thought you said you grew up on an island. Is there something you've neglected to tell me?"

"It's not my fault if you don't listen," she muttered, her gaze darting around the room as Jaime tried to capture and hold her eyes with his own. Brienne let out an unsteady breath, falling back into old habits, folding her arms across her chest in protection. "When do you have to be at work?"

"Sometime in the next half hour, but you've piqued my interest now." He batted his eyelashes, starting to run through an arsenal of overtly flirtatious tricks that she thought would be better aimed at any of the wait staff who seemed ready to fall into his lap given half a chance. "Tell me about your wolves."

"It's not going to be a very good description."

"I don't care that you can't talk for shit. Tell me."

"Maybe," Brienne started and her pause unintentionally made Jaime duck his head, biting into his smile as he coyly looked up at her. "Maybe," she repeated. "You need to see them yourself."

"On Saturday?"

She nodded. "I would...you're one of the few people I know who doesn't care about the migratory patterns of swallows."

"That might be because you don't know very many people."

Brienne ignored him. "Even Margaery feigns interest because they all think she's pretty."

Jaime snorted a laugh, finally dropping the earlier, softer act. "I'd love to see those old guy's faces if they ever learned that she prefers girls."

Boldness claimed her tongue, a rare but unfortunate side effect of spending extended amounts of time with Jaime. "What makes you think I wasn't talking about the women?"

He laughed openly at that, loud enough that most of the early morning commuters turned to shush him. "I'll pick you up at six."

************

As the host introduced what must have been the twentieth award of the evening, Brienne grimaced in agreement as Jaime rolled his eyes at the amplified hyperbole and re-filled their wine glasses. Her father's prize was due to be presented next, for his years of work dedicated to the reintroduction and conservation of grey wolves before moving into academia, although it had taken the best part of three hours to get to that point.

Jaime took a final glance at the screen, now showing footage of stalking lionesses, forgoing the idea of personal space as he moved towards Brienne and whispered in her ear. "You weren't kidding when you implied this would be tedious," he yawned, sending a warm breath over the vast quantity of bare skin along her back, only giving Brienne a second to suppress the shiver before he spoke again. "Those wolves better be impressive or you're going to have to suffer the next Casterly Foundation dinner as penance."

She sent back a string of quietly placating phrases, Jaime choosing to rest his weaker arm along the back of her chair as he met each one with far more interesting challenges. Brienne realised she was loosing the verbal battle quicker than usual, each back and forth bringing Jaime a little closer until he was practically sitting in her lap and they were definitely giving off the wrong impression.

Knees bumped and thighs brushed, his head so close that Brienne could almost feel his lips on her skin, knocking them both off their well travelled path. Jaime was hovering between confusion and irritated bemusement, breathing out a tension releasing laugh as Brienne caught her father's encouraging smile from across the room. She froze, the heat flowing up her neck becoming the only thing still moving, wishing she could have skipped out on the obligation without making herself sick with guilt. Admittedly the drive up had been straddling the line of comfortable; a few stories from her childhood, a few memories from his, reminders on what constituted good behaviour and instructions so she could perform introductions without stumbling over the words.

The guests were a similar mix as those Brienne had come across at the couple of events she'd previously attended, academics and research assistants, a lot of whom had known her since she was child. Jaime was immediately better at ease then she was, his Lannister name something to be feared and admired and overpraised, although he didn't hold back his ire when questioned about an unusual business practice used by the Casterly Foundation. Brienne pulled him away before anything more than words could be exchanged, spinning Jaime around and running straight into her father.

The relationships she'd entered into, but ultimately failed at, during her college years had been important for many reasons but not nearly important enough to ever consider bringing anyone home. Though as Jaime explained their strange friendship without a hint of irony or sarcasm, her father's questions still made it feel like they were both hiding something pertinent.

The feeling didn't completely disappear until after her father had finally given his acceptance speech, dedicating the whole thing to Brienne and her well hidden tears. And after applause and hugs and expensive champagne, Jaime ghosted a hand over her back and steered her away from the celebrations. She didn't miss the stares and giggles from some of the more inebriated guests, trailing after him into the darkness without fully realising how their odd behaviour might be perceived.

She took the lead as soon as they left the gravelled paths behind, cursing the impracticality of her wide legged jumpsuit and flat shoes, though Brienne knew every inch of the place even in the dark. "We're not a zoo," she explained to Jaime as he looked around for something more than the mesh fence. "Everything is free to come and go as they please, just not into the house." Brienne hooked her fingers into the holes in the wire like she had done a thousand times before and whistled.

Sure enough the small pack loped over the uneven ground to regard what threat the intruders posed. The alpha, ghostly white and battled scarred, reached the fence only to throw back his head and howl. The hair along the back of Brienne's neck stood on end, feeling the primal sound move through her and into the ground. Jaime was wide eyed and silent beside her, sharing something unusual and beautiful.

"So?" Brienne asked after the wolf had accepted her presence by the pack, lying down in a show of nonchalance.

"They're fine. Nothing to get excited over." Jaime dismissed it easily but there was a hint of something in his voice that betrayed the general aura of confidence. "Casterly dinners are every other Friday. You suit the blue but you'll need a different outfit. My father doesn't exactly approve of women in pants."

She wasn't sure how to respond to the first compliment Jaime had seen fit to dole out, so simply replied, "I'll have to ask Margaery." 

"See that you do." Jaime tripped over a dip in the unfamiliar ground, catching her sleeve and without hesitation Brienne took his hand to lead him back towards the house.


	6. June: Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An encounter with Stoneheart brings Jaime and Brienne closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we reach the half way point by heading in what I hope is an unexpected direction. 
> 
> I'm overwhelmed by the amount of support I've recieved so far with this story and I just want to say thank you again to everyone reading and leaving feedback, you're all amazing!

Her first thought as Brienne forced her heavy eyelids open to blinding light was that she couldn't remember anything from the last few hours. Pain ripped into her consciousness, sharp and intense, bringing with it a handful of flashing images which had few distinguishing features to mark them as either dream or reality. Unfamiliar voices conversed above her head, asking Brienne question after question that she was unable to answer. She grunted as another wave washed over her without mercy, crying out for the only thing that came to mind before she was being pulled under, drowning as violent swells of excruciation battered her body over and over and over again.

When Brienne next awoke, pulling herself up from the depths of nonsense, it was dark. There was a haze clouding her mind but a steady pressure at her wrist offered her a lifeline, pain flooding back as the whole world turned a familiar shade of green.

"Jaime?" Her voice was nothing more than a croaking cough, chest tightening with the sheer effort of trying to breathe and talk at the same time.

The hand wrapped around her wrist squeezed in relief, her steady pulse thundering against the sudden change in pressure, demanding Brienne fully focus on the man by her bedside. Jaime looked nearly as exhausted as she felt, making her question the length of his vigil, fine lines under his eyes and across his forehead appearing more prominent in the harsh fluorescent lighting. "I'm here."

Brienne blinked as a deeply concerned look took up residence on Jaime's face, his rumpled tuxedo clad visage only emphasising an already bizarre picture. Her gaze quickly fell away from his flawed perfection to take in the cream walls of the small room she'd been placed in, so unlike the clumsily stencilled blue and silver star print ones of her own bedroom, disinfectant and the steady beeping of electronic machines overwhelming her senses. "Where am I?"

"Arryn General. There was an accident, but you're going to be alright." For a second it seemed like Jaime was trying to convince himself of that fact as much as her, but it was fleeting and he was back to brutally honest almost instantaneously. "They're treating you for smoke inhalation, partial thickness burns and a concussion."

She opened her mouth but before the question left her lips, Jaime shook his head. Her own was inching towards clearing but not nearly enough to allow the haunting dreamlike memories to make sense. "What happened?"

"That's what I want to know." Fury overtook worry, the raw emotion racing around the room as if there was a point to prove. "You didn't return my messages even after your shift had finished and then when I did get an answer, it was from this branch of the seven hells."

As Jaime continued to stare fiercely, Brienne wondered when she'd had a chance to update her emergency contact details while her father was off on another months long sabbatical beyond The Wall. She was sure she hadn't, expecting to be alone until the station could reach Margaery. And grateful as she was for the company, the idea that Selwyn had decided Jaime was the best person to hold her hand in the hospital was something she'd have to discuss with him later.

She blinked again, as the tiny gesture could push away some of the narcotics in her system, thinking back to what little she could recall of the previous night. "Wasn't there a Foundation dinner last night?"

"The Annual Casterly Foundation Midsummer's Eve Masquerade Ball," Jaime announced sardonically. "It took me weeks to talk you into going. And then some fucker calls in sick and you go from cat woman to firefighter in seconds flat."

"Catwoman?" Brienne was still trying to work through everything and Jaime wasn't really helping by adding extra information to her already confused state.

"There was a mask and ears."

She shook her head in disbelief, twisting in the wide hospital bed to try and find a more comfortable position with the wires in her arm and nose, but only discovered more pain as her heavily bandaged left cheek came into contact with the pillow.

"Well at least you weren't pretty to begin with," Jaime muttered as she winced, though it was filled with even more concern than before. "The doctors think you suffered some kind of chemical burn, but nobody will be sure what caused it until one of your team can give them some details."

"They only give that kind of information to..." Brienne started but couldn't finish due to the coughing that painfully shook her chest, feeling like she was being stabbed with each breath. "How did you talk your way in here?"

"How do you think? I lied." Jaime's fingers brushed along her wrist again, going as far as stroking into her palm before retreating back. "No one needs your help right now, your team are both in recovery so stop being pigheaded and go to sleep like a normal person."

"Pod? And Harry?"

"Did I not just speak English? Sleep. Now. We can talk more in the morning when you might be able to finish a sentence without looking like you want to die."

"Stoneheart," she half remembered seconds before another scheduled dose of morphine reached her veins. Brienne fought the pull for as long as she could, listening to Jaime swear that Stoneheart Industries would have a 'shit load of questions to answer about dangerous storage of chemicals' before she reluctantly closed her eyes.

*******

Brienne wasn't sure how long she'd been under the third time she woke in the hospital bed but, judging by the thin light creeping into the room like an unwanted guest, it hadn't been for more than a few hours. Jaime was still by her side, having fallen asleep with his head resting neatly against her thigh. His left arm had been slung around the slight curve at her hip, though it was impossible to work out if it was because Jaime wanted to protect her or if it was simply more comfortable to lie like that. Brienne tried to ask him to move but the words tugged at her burned flesh, allowing a hiss of discomfort to leave her lips which only led to him hugging the pillow of muscle tighter.

The noise must have been louder than she realised because a petite nurse quickly appeared at the door to whisper a friendly greeting, Brienne only just noticing that she had been placed in a private room with a nurses station right outside. "Just checking that you didn't need anything," the blonde girl smiled as she looked down at Jaime who had just started to gently snore. "We don't usually let partners stay but he was very insistent earlier."

"Partners?" Brienne asked, feeling Jaime move and settle a little closer, the rising embarrassed heat as he nuzzled and gripped making her covered cheek sting. She bit her tongue and worked through the pain, desperate not to have to rely on the medication that kept clouded her thoughts. "Could you possibly get a message and let Sansa Stark know I'm here please? She works in obstetrics."

"Of course, Ms Tarth. If you want anything else, there's a button by the bed."

As soon as the nurse had fallen out of earshot Brienne muttered for her friend to quit treating her like a pillow, trying not to care about how much it hurt to talk. When his only reply was an exhale that sounded too much like her name, she knocked him with her knee.

"Jaime!"

He made a grumbling noise in the back of his throat at being torn from an obviously pleasant dream and sat up to stare at her through bleary eyes, kneading the crick out of his neck as he took in her most recent disfigurement in the daylight. "You must know you're going to lose any argument you start with me this early."

Brienne didn't think she had the energy to throw herself into one of their normal disagreements, stepping into the unknown cautiously. "Did you tell the nurses we were...together?"

"Married," he corrected with a smile at the way her mouth dropped open in shock. "And no, they assumed that from whatever was on your phone and I didn't feel the need to correct anyone."

"You didn't?"

He shrugged. "I mean the drugs in here take the edge off everything but I can't say it's particularly fun to spend all that time alone with your own thoughts."

"You didn't have to do that." Brienne replied after a beat, hoping the incident that had put her in the hospital wouldn't cause her friends to worry even more about the daily dangers she voluntarily faced. "Thank you."

"Though I might have to check your messages, since I think I would have noticed if we'd starting sexting."

Brienne sighed and rolled onto her right side, choosing not to counter Jaime's jokes for once, trying to avoid becoming tangled in the multiple wires that were monitoring her vitals. "We should try and get some rest."

Later she would blame anything and everything she could for her actions but, as Brienne moved to look across at Jaime's chair and back to her bed, she realised her sudden crazy idea would only help the act he'd started. "Do you maybe want to sleep somewhere more comfortable?"

Jaime's eyes were already closing as he replied, "I'm not going home if that's what you're getting at."

"I didn't mean...I don't want...we could always share. Think of it as repaying a debt." Brienne echoed angry words spoken to her in a bar three months earlier.

"Like you owe me anything." The bed shifted a minute later and though Jaime stayed at a sensible distance, Brienne couldn't say she was annoyed when his left arm snaked around her waist. "Just don't forget this was your idea."

"I promise."

Jaime pulled her ever so slightly towards him, holding and anchoring Brienne to the bed. He was gentler than she ever thought possible, fingers moving over the thin blanket and even thinner hospital gown, letting her drown not in the pain but in the smell and feel of him around her.

"There's another ball at Christmas," he murmured, sounding like he was only half aware of what was coming out of his mouth. "Brienne?"

"I'll see if I can take the night off."

He stroked her hip absently, causing an shuddering rush of liquid heat to pool in her belly, the ache almost as painful as her cheek. "And I won't let you out of my sight."

His voice and touches were becoming soothing and judging from past experience Brienne knew this side of him wouldn't stay at the surface for long. "Don't you have other things you should be doing?"

"Probably. But I can't think of anything more important right now."

*******

It was mid afternoon by the time Sansa picked up her messages, having been called in to assist with a difficult delivery, which meant that as Brienne was shook gently awake she had spent the best part of eight hours recovering with Jaime by, and in, her bed.

"You had us all worried, sweetie." Margaery had dark circles under her eyes. "The news reports said someone died. If it wasn't for Jaime..."

He was back in his chair, looking like he'd showered and changed in the last couple of hours. "I called her a few hours ago," Jaime smirked. "You'll be happy to learn that after some serious name dropping, they're letting you go home at the weekend."

"We had a discussion while you were asleep," Margaery politely interrupted before Brienne could protest. "You might not like it but we think it'll be better if you're not left on your own for the next couple of weeks."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"That's good, because I wasn't planning on being one." Jaime's eyes glinted mischievously at catching her out yet again.

"It was inferred that I'd have to commit murder if I didn't let you go home with him," Margaery sighed. "And since my brother is arriving to start his internship next week and then there's all the wedding prep...I'm so sorry."

"It's ok," Brienne whispered, glancing at the most attractive roommate she'd ever had and feeling a flock of butterflies settle in her belly. "I'll be alright."

_I promise I will be okay._


	7. July: Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime makes for a strange nurse, trust and truces redux as he and Brienne continue to tiptoe closer.

Brienne stayed at Jaime's longer than a couple of weeks. At first, after Margaery played the best friend card and packed Brienne a bag big enough for a month, it was out of strict necessity. Hours and days blurred together uncomfortably as the cocktail of prescribed pills made her both dizzy and drowsy. Jaime kept regaling her with stories from his own recovery, the underlying message seeming to be that she was one tough cookie and it would get better. Still, even taking into account the need to give her lungs time to heal and limiting the intermittent pain caused by slowly forming scar tissue, Brienne hated feeling like she only closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them again it was nine or ten hours later.

She had long since realised that Jaime wasn't a particularly patient man, he'd made her well aware of that fact early on in their friendship, but he now seemed to be going out of his way to be quietly considerate when she most needed him to be. During that first hazy fortnight most of the business relating to The Casterly Foundation was transferred to his home office, Brienne often waking to find Jaime feet away from the sofa softly swearing at having to reply to emails one handed. And the issues that did take him away for longer than a few hours only allowed room to be filled by Margaery and Sansa's welcome gentleness. Neither of whom would allow Brienne to step down from her upcoming maid of honour oath, even if she would now stand out more than usual in the photographs.

So by the time her body had started to acclimatise and Brienne could walk from Jaime's sofa to the bathroom and out onto his beautifully ostentatious balcony without thinking like her world was going to come to a end, she knew it was time to start considering her retreat back into isolation. Jaime was starting to leave her alone for longer periods of time, no longer treating her like a child in need of constant supervision, instead allowing her to be a roommate he neither expected nor, as far as she could tell, particularly wanted most of the time.

Since leaving college, a little over five years earlier, Brienne hadn't shared so much of her space and time with anyone and it was clear, from the way Jaime wandered around his apartment barely clothed and seemingly oblivious to her presence at times, he was in a similar situation. It took her more than a few days of averting her eyes and blushing uncontrollably to come to terms with the fact that Jaime, scarred and yet still heart stoppingly gorgeous, had no concept of modesty. Brienne couldn't work out if it was arrogance or just habit that let him slip back into his old routines, especially as she was still camped out in his front room. Although, whatever it was, it allowed her to see far more of him than she'd ever dared imagine, and that was taking into account the handful of fantasies Jaime's golden presence had slipped into shortly before Stoneheart Industries had forced them under the same roof.

Brienne was given yet another sign that she was well on the road to recovery one day Jaime disappeared from sunrise to sunset, leaving her to rattle around his apartment with very little to occupy her time. He returned shortly after she'd retired to bed for the night, whatever had taken him away leaving him angry enough to forget there was a still a giant blonde girl in his guest room.

Brienne winced at the slamming doors, spending a moment wondering which Lannister family member was the cause of his mood change, before pushing herself out of bed and padding along the hallway to stand unsurely outside of his room.

She knocked carefully on his door, steadying herself for a fight. "Jaime?"

"What do you want now? Isn't it past your ridiculously scheduled bedtime?"

Brienne rolled her eyes, hugging herself as the unmistakable whir of air conditioning cut through the humid night, bare legs and arms erupting in goosebumps at the rapidly decreasing temperature. "If you hadn't seen fit to slam every door from Kings Landing to the Eyrie I'd be asleep right now." She spat, yawning, taking the time to figure out what to say next. "If you want to talk about anything, I'd listen."

"Don't waste your time worrying about the likes of me, woman. I'm perfectly fine."

She knocked more forcefully at the bite in his tone which indicated Jaime was anything but fine, hoping that their friendship meant he could share more with her than just his space. "Jaime?"

"Gods, you're even more mulish than usual at this time of night," he muttered in reply, causing Brienne to jump back as the door opened. "There's nothing wrong with...you're bleeding." She heard the change in his voice, noticed the hand twitching at his side, before Jaime grabbed her wrist and pulled her firmly towards the bathroom. He pointed at the edge of the tub. "Sit."

"The doctor said-"

"I don't care what the doctor said." Jaime growled, shooting her a look that let her know he wouldn't be retreating any time soon, Brienne beginning to chew at her already chapped lower lip. "Let me see."

"No." She hadn't even wanted to look at the damage herself, only doing it in order to check on the healing process as she changed the bandage every morning. Everything that had happened at Stoneheart Industries was coming back to her in fragments; putting her team in danger despite the routine nature of the call, a fall and the subsequent rush of agony, feeling so helpless, and though he hadn't done more than question and worry and curse so far, if Jaime really thought any of that was a laughing matter she might end up doing something she'd later regret. "I am capable of taking care of things by myself."

"You don't think I already know what you can take care of?" A lop sided smile was beginning to win ground against the earlier mix of anger and concern and Brienne wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Doesn't it get tedious? Or lonely?"

"Why would it..." she paused, a smile now starting to spark in his eyes and Brienne blushed deeply, taking longer than she'd like to understand Jaime wasn't just talking about her wounds. "Oh. I-"

Jaime shook his head fondly, the movement ruffling his hair in a way that seemed to be inviting her to reach out and tame the strands that fell haphazardly. "You're too easy sometimes. But I promise not to say another word if you don't want me to." He held up his own injury, right arm raised as if swearing an oath. "You once allowed me to risk a truce, do you still trust me, Brienne?"

As she closed her eyes Brienne could have sworn she saw an emerald tinged flicker of disappointment, but her nod and whisper of agreement was quickly met with Jaime moving to kneel in front of the tub. He hadn't been that close since the first night at the hospital and she desperately tried not to remember how oddly amazing it felt to have him curled around her.

Steady fingers started to push hair behind her ear, bringing Brienne back from the past to focus on present sensations, Jaime spending what felt like years gently brushing over her temple and jaw. She had to hold back a hiss as a knuckle knocked against the corner of her mouth, listening to the slight catch in Jaime's own inhales. He stopped moving for a second, as if only realising what he was doing after the fact, finally starting to remove the layers of gauze hiding her bravery.

If he was disgusted by what fire and free running chemicals had done to her already mismatched face, then Jaime hid any immediate reaction brilliantly. Instead his fingers curiously traced over the scar tissue that had already formed, the untouched skin too sensitive for even the softest of touches, and, though she tried, a tiny sigh left Brienne's lips before she could stop it.

"Shit," Jaime breathed, his hand falling away to squeeze her shoulder in apology. "Sorry."

"Am I still bleeding?"

"A little," Jaime replied bluntly, holding her chin in order to move her more into the light. "You shouldn't scratch at it again, you'll only cause more scarring and it's already going to be a mess."

Brienne opened her eyes to find him ripping into the packaging of a new bandage with his teeth, "I can do that if you want."

"Just sit still," he growled, "And hold this."

She pressed the gauze to her cheek, waiting until he secured it a little tighter than was probably comfortable. "What happened today?"

"Family."

"Your father or your brother?" Brienne had met the latter at both Foundation dinners she'd attended, finding Tyrion to be a little too smart for his own good, especially with a drink in his hand and a woman on his arm, but he was generally harmless where the former had such a preceding reputation it had made her blood run cold anytime he'd looked in her direction.

"Neither," Jaime replied as he ran his fingers along the line of surgical tape he'd lain adjacent to her jaw, unaware or uncaring that each touch was making her skin tingle in a way that straddled the line of pleasure and pain, tipping her chin again in order to get a better look at his handiwork. "My stepsister's back."

She thought she had seen every colour of emotion possible from Jaime since their first, bloody collision and through every charged encounter thereafter, trailing after him like a golden tinged rainbow, but this quietly reserved sadness was something Brienne hadn't come across before. She felt him take back his hand, giving her time to process what he'd already told her about the nature of his relationship with Cersei, the truth in the perennially circling rumours flowing out of him one night neither of them wanted to move from his sofa. None of it had come as too much of a surprise to her after all of the secrets they'd unlocked together. And this was what came after the anger and the guilt, the final stage of mourning a woman he had loved deeply for more than half his life.

"If this is your way of asking me to leave, just say it," Brienne whispered, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to hold him in her arms, to offer up what little comfort she could. They never touched now unless it was needed, even if Jaime's insistences that she could use his shoulder as a pillow whenever she got tired on an evening were becoming more and more regular.

He looked up at her, moving nothing but his eyes, appearing almost boyish under the bathroom light. "Gods, no. I happen to like my head where it is and I think your friends would remove it from my shoulders if I let you go home before you were completely ready."

Frowning still hurt, the action pulling at skin and tape alike. "I thought you were the one who did the threatening."

Jaime shrugged. "Since you've already taken over my spare room, and my front room, I'm not going to complain if you need to stay a little longer."

"I do have a home."

"I know, but you have to admit mine's better." 

Brienne sighed and he rose just far enough to perch on the side of the tub next to her. "She's never been here," he promised. "I've never let Cersei in here."

She nodded, wondering what that meant, though it would have to wait until the next time she couldn't sleep before she could think it through properly as her stomach growled and Jaime raised an eyebrow at the sound.

"Didn't you have any dinner?"

Brienne nodded again, though she couldn't get his oven to work and he didn't keep much food around other than breakfast cereal and strange protein bars from Yi Ti.

"Liar," he accused, the word soft, fond, amused. "I know what's not in my fridge. Pentoshi takeout again, then?"

"It's nearly midnight, Jaime."

"It is. But I also know that you can't take your last painkiller of the day on an empty stomach. So you can either wait in the kitchen with me or you can spend the night in pain, cursing the smell of spiced lamb curry."

"What if I wanted something different this time?"

"When have you ever ordered something different? It wouldn't be much of a torment if I ordered beef and beans, now would it?"

She mock glared and he laughed as he left the bathroom, calling to her again, his earlier mood all but forgotten though Brienne couldn't help worrying about him all the same.


	8. August: Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A first is welcomed with open arms but not all goes to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this might be the chapter I'm most nervous about posting and I'm sure you'll know why if you make it to the end. 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who's still reading :)

Brienne didn't know when her reasons for not returning home became excuses to spend more time in Jaime's world but, almost in the blink of an eye, July became August and she felt no closer to leaving. He wasn't a particularly gracious host, Jaime so far refusing every offer of assistance or compensation she had made, pride or guilt or concern causing tense discussions each time she wanted to make herself useful beyond paying for the occasional dinner or taking out the trash. She was the best guest any member of the Lannister family had ever come across, he'd insist whenever the issue arose, one who never switched on a light she didn't need, rarely used the Wi-Fi and took her showers short and scolding.

And, being that Jaime didn't expect Brienne's guest status in his home to change any time soon, tipsily telling her during the ride back from The Foundation's summer garden party that he thought she'd just as easily laugh than accept an offer to move in on a more permanent basis, he really didn't expect or need her to pull her weight like an official roommate or his live-in girlfriend. Up until that point such a thing had never crossed her mind, the possibility of them continuing to coexist in the same space long term seeming to verge on impossible. Though his confession had followed a night where Jaime had growled at anyone who'd tried to ask about her facial scars, smiled as she held her own against Cersei's questions, and whisked Brienne out of harm's way after a large, flame haired man with a Northern accent had started making eyes at her from across the tables.

Even when Jaime's list of her qualities started to flirt closer and closer towards the line separating complimentary and critical, Brienne found herself biting back the way she did before they were friends, needing an outlet for her growing frustrations. It was all she could do to stop herself from dwelling on the reasons why her body wasn't back to full strength quite yet, despite daily interventions from an expert physiotherapist. But, every now and again, his last words, spat at her like a crackle of lightning in the midst of a swelteringly oppressive summer storm, accompanied by Fire Chief Tarly's continued refusals to sign her back onto active duty until she had bested the targets she'd set during her own initial evaluation, sent Brienne scuttling back to a safe distance, exhausted by the energy she'd had to expel just to make herself clear.

Now as she closed the kitchen door behind her, Brienne blinked away the sheen of tears that were prickling behind her eyelids, remembering the promise she'd made to Tommen in the spring about Jaime not making her cry, sinking to the floor in acceptance of how tired and strung out and pissed off she felt. Drawing her knees to her chest, Brienne stayed perfectly still until her butt started to complain, tingling from inactivity, listening to Jaime move around the front room, the sound of canned laughter cutting through the silence soon after. When it became clear that he wasn't allowing either of them to end the night angry, Brienne sighed, just about ready to explain and apologise for her part in their fight.

With the air conditioning blasting out colder air than normal, Jaime hadn't hesitated to wrap himself up in one of the blankets she'd brought from home, having left it on the sofa several months ago, turning his head to regard her entrance with such an open, rueful gaze that Brienne didn't even stop for breath before everything came spilling out of her.

Part way through recalling her soul destroying weekly meeting with Tarly, but before she spoke about how well Pod was keeping a brave face in spite of his shattered limbs, Jaime lifted a fraying corner of the blanket, quietly interrupting her train of thought by inviting her to sit down.

Staring down at the empty space, Brienne felt her eyes dart up to find his, slowly sliding beneath the ocean of blue wool a moment later to feel him exhale and physically relax at her side. Finally coming to terms with the fact that he was of the few people in her life who could understood what she going through, the combination of helplessness and guilt remaining a foreign concept to Margaery and Sansa, Jaime offered her a story of his own for each one she'd shared, filling in the weeks between their crash and her first, furious phone call during the trial. They ran out of steam eventually, their stories completed so there was nothing left for them to do but sit and stare at the television, the old sitcom comforting in its familiarity.

"How do you feel about children?" Jaime's question arrived out of nowhere, leaving Brienne lost for words.

"I-I've never thought-"

Shuffling around to take in her widening eyes, he laughed softly. "Steady on there, Bee, I only wanted to know if helping me with Tommen would make you feel like you were doing _something_."

"Doesn't he have summer school?"

"They let out at two. He usually goes to my father's but _Lord Twyin_ is away to Highgarden for the next fortnight to visit Margaery's grandmother." Jaime pulled a face. "Like I needed to know what they get up-"

"Jaime," she warned, not needing the tangent or the visual, however much she liked Olenna.

"So what do you say, Bee? We'd just have to keep him occupied until about six when Bronn will return him to his mother."

"As long as it's okay with your sister."

"I couldn't think of a better person to watch him," Jaime acknowledged her concern with a terse nod. "And you couldn't do any worse than me. I'll get some colouring books or stickers or something for wet days."

She placed her hand on top of his, exhaustion creeping up on them both, causing Jaime's speech to speed and slur as she yawned. "I think we can handle it between us."

Jaime beamed at her. "Of course we can."

Brienne tried to return his smile but found herself yawning again. "I should to go to bed, your physio is meeting me at 6am tomorrow. Are we...are we okay?"

"We're okay," Jaime replied, glanced across at her cheek and squeezing her hand firmly. "You'll be back to work in no time. And don't think you ever have to hide, you're a fucking hero, remember?"

She felt an ugly blush paint her cheeks crimson. "You can tell you're tired, you're using old jokes."

"It wasn't-" Jaime started, shaking his head as a yawn stopped him from saying anything more. "Sweet dreams, Bee."

*******

Brienne was due in the gym well before he had awoken the next day, but she made sure to replace the filter in his coffee machine on her way out, leaving the smell of freshly brewed coffee to spread through the apartment. She did it even though he'd left her a note on the fridge telling her not to trouble herself with the task, his near illegible scrawl also providing her with instructions to Tommen's school and all nearby parks in case they wanted to go out later.

Quickly falling into a comfortable routine, Brienne began to work her way towards smashing all but one of Chief Tarly's targets, feeling ready to finally go home only to get a call from her landlord asking if he could upgrade her bathroom suite. He'd been wanting to change it for months, but she had never been away long enough for the work to be carried out. If the timing was a little strange, it didn't concern her enough to let the thought linger, continuing with Mya, their physio, with Tommen, and with Jaime. She knew whatever they had cultivated would all come to an end soon enough, starting to wonder if Jaime had anticipated the coming shift, too, his alarm being set earlier and earlier so their first meeting of each day happened in the hallway right after his morning shower.

The third morning of bumping into him damp and virtually naked, Jaime irritatingly began to delight in finding new ways to irritate her. Or at least Brienne assumed it was amusement darkening his eyes the following day as they found every bruise on her overworked arms, muscles still trying to cling to whatever dream she'd already forgotten.

"Do you mind?" Brienne felt strangely vulnerable beneath his gaze, following the slow spread of blossoming heat like it could be something other than ugly and undesirable.

His responding smile was as slow as molasses but nowhere near as sweet. "Not at all."

"Jaime."

"Brienne." He ducked his head as he took a half step closer, becoming appealing enough for her breath to hitch, heartbeat doubling in the half second it took for Jaime to blink. "You know when I said you could stay as long as you wanted I didn't expect you'd still be here two months later."

"I'm sorry." She didn't know what else to say, not when he was looking at her more closely than ever, the intensity of summer in the air and the steam coming off his skin making her threadbare shirt stick uncomfortably. "I-I was planning on leaving soon. I can just as easily go today."

"No," Jaime growled, catching her defensive prickle and pushing against the rising emotional barrier. He wanted to be let in again, like the first night at the hospital, like every time they had inched towards sharing something personal that changed the nature of their friendship.

"I'm sorry?"

"I forgot you were like that," he murmured as he reached out and pushed a limp lock of hair off her shoulder.

"Like what?" she asked, bouncing back on her heels only to lose her footing on a puddle that had formed from the warm water dripping off him while they'd been talking. However, before she could add to her injuries, Jaime caught her like he was strong enough to take anything she could throw at him.

"Repetitive."

"I am not." They were practically on top of each other now, his nose accidentally bumping along her jaw and the corresponding brush of stubble against her neck caused her held breath to escape in a gasp.

"You're also stubborn. And naive." His last word was a whispered caress in her ear, something equally soft and unflattering.

"Why are you telling me this now?" She wanted to ask him what they were doing, why every second of being able to feel and touch was so terrifyingly thrilling compared with what her imagination had provided, but then his hand settled at the small of her back and Brienne found she neither wanted to stop or understand his reasons. Jaime knowingly traced all the places that made her shiver, a product of too many dinners and backless dresses, and her hands finally stopped trembling for long enough to run them over his exposed muscles. Her stomach dropped to the floor as the hum along her neck turned into a groan, a tingle of desire making Brienne eager for more than just considered touches.

"Tell me to stop."

"I don't want to."

He laughed breathlessly into her skin between kisses that wanted to claim and intensify her building need, desire echoing around them even as Brienne bit her lip bloody and Jaime found comfort in the hollow of her collarbones. She couldn't listen to the fear that she could never be enough for him, couldn't think that they were only setting themselves up for failure in case it broke her heart before he could accept it, instead winding a hand in his hair and tugging Jaime up to her mouth.

In the past ten years Brienne had only ever kissed three men; the first being a mistake she'd never forget, the second leading only to failure and the third ending in broken bones, but not one of them came close to the fizz of anticipation she felt as Jaime pressed his lips against hers. It was tentative at first, her lack of experience clumsily betraying her, but his hand soon cradled her jaw to guide her kiss by searing kiss into a dance played out by swollen lips and darting tongues.

The tingle in her core became an ache, hips falling into underused rhythms as Jaime ground his growing arousal against her thigh, letting the outside world fall away until nothing was left but desperate kisses and blistering touches. He had just started to push up her shirt when the front door slammed and they broke apart, both panting hard and refusing to look at each other.

"You missed another board meeting, brother," a man's voice called out jovially, Brienne cringing in recognition. "Apparently they think some girl has taken you prisoner, which can't possibly be true because the only girl you've had here is..." Tyrion trailed off as he came across the pair still fighting for breath, glowering at the intruder from opposite corners of the wide hallway. "...Brienne. Although I suppose she does have 'fantastically' blue eyes."

He smiled, glancing between the two blonds. "Did I just interrupt something?"

"No," Brienne replied just as the enormity of their spontaneous make out session settled, birthing hundreds of anxious butterflies that all told her she was wrong to act out. With her head no longer under the fog of lust, Jaime's actions would be better explained as those of someone desperate for the touch of a woman, any woman. After all, he hadn't been on a date for months and it was selfish to continue asking him to put his life on hold for her. She had to go home.

"I was just saying goodbye," she stated plainly. "I think...I've been here too long."

"If you wanted to stay," Jaime suggested, "we could always discuss you paying rent."

"I'll...call you."

Refusing to stay long enough to eavesdrop on them, it took her less than ten minutes to dress, haphazardly throwing clothes and toiletries into a bag, before thanking Jaime for his hospitality and walking out of the door until she could figure out how she could apologise for screwing up their friendship.

*******

Though Brienne wasn't allowed to swim yet, the chlorine bad for her barely healed burns, she could still run and lift weights and smack a punching bag around with the best of them, each hit now alleviating a little of her tension. She didn't even mind that it was dark by the time she got walked through her own front door, exhausted enough to long for a deep, dreamless sleep. Though before she could fall into bed, her phone started flashing for attention.

**Sorry sweetie, change of plans. It's 8am at The Eyrie next Saturday, not 9. The ceremony's still at 3. Hope Jaime's still taking good care of you ;) M**

Brienne made a mental note of the change as her eyes flickered shut, trying not to let herself be taken back to a hallway where Jaime's actions would have certainly fallen under Margaery's definition of 'good care'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One step forward, two steps back but weddings have a habit of bringing people together :)


	9. September: Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne hash some things out at Margaery and Sansa's wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about not posting on Sunday. I had to work this weekend and didn't get enough time to edit this chapter the way I wanted to in time. I really hope this slightly longer chapter makes up for it!

The first Saturday of the month dawned so hot and humid that Brienne almost wished she hadn't bolted at the first sign her friendship with Jaime maybe had the potential to become something more. Although, with enough time, she expected that they could have eventually slipped back into a routine of coffee, Friday night dinners and Saturday movies, missing him and missing the perks of good air conditioning in the face of a heat wave were two completely different, unrelated things. And so, Brienne woke that morning with the sun, feeling anxious and sticky. She had walked into burning buildings and swirling open water to rescue people, her return to the fire station finally agreed to be within the week, but the prospect of a Stark-Tyrell wedding still terrified her.

Not so long ago Brienne was only worried about losing either of the priceless platinum rings or being too tongued tied to give a speech, though now there was the added apprehensive bonus of waiting to see if Jaime would show up or not. They'd talked just the once since the hallway incident and had mainly relied on text messages she wasn't reading into since. All it had cemented was that he was under no obligation to come to the wedding, they were her friends not his, and she didn't know whether having to deal with his attitude all afternoon would be better or worse than him deciding to give the event a miss altogether.

But she had little time to linger on what was and what may never be, drowning in Tyrell ladies almost as soon as she had stepped out of the heat and into the pool of nervous excitement that was spilling out of the brides' dressing rooms at the grandest of the three Eyrie hotels. After checking on Sansa, who seemed quite at ease with her childhood best friend and sister-in-law getting her ready, Brienne tentatively traversed the bridesmaids blocking a clear path to Margaery's side. To Brienne's great surprise, her friend appeared to be struggling with a last minute attack of nerves and her cousins were doing nothing to help alleviate the situation, fluttering around her like overeager butterflies. Determining what the half-dressed brunette needed most; coffee, chocolate and a cigarette, Brienne was happy enough to run the errand, knowing that attempting to cover up her scars with heavy make up would only draw more to them.

Margaery hadn't smoked since before she had met Sansa, swearing she would never touch another cigarette again while she and Brienne had stood in the falling snow, watching the fire crews battle with the blaze that had raged through their college dorm junior year. By some stroke of luck the majority of their class had been present at a Winterfest parade when the fire had started, Brienne and Margaery arriving back even later after dropping Margaery's brother, Loras, off across campus. If only the fourth member of their small friendship group, Renly, hadn't had an early flight home the next day maybe the night wouldn't have marked a tragic turning point in all of their young lives.

It was a strange, melancholy maze of emotion for Brienne to be drawn into, one she hadn't truly visited in many years, but it was hard not to wonder what their missing friend would have made of the summer rose floral arrangements and perfectly organised seating plan as she passed an equally wistful Loras on her way down the ballroom stairs. If Renly had still been with them, she doubted this would have been the only wedding of the year.

"Your sister is five minutes away from pulling her hair out up there," she told him, trying to avoid the eye of Olenna Tyrell who had just entered the hotel on the arm of Jaime's father. Brienne was still in her pale pink bridesmaid's sweats, having not yet plucked up the courage to change into the turquoise sheath dress she would be wearing for the ceremony. "Marge needs caffeine or nicotine or something to get her through the next couple of hours with all the opinions of your extended family," she added, almost bouncing on the spot until Olenna slipped out of view. "I'm going to see if this part of town has any convenience stores. Or a Starbucks."

Loras nearly cracked a smile, sibling affection breaking through the descending dark clouds of memory. "I've never known her be nervous about something before. She's usually so calm and controlled and...Margaery about everything."

"She's never gotten married before." Brienne returned the half smile, feeling her lip twitch and fight against the action as she continued to watch the slow stream of guests stop and stare at the vast staircase, gilded ceiling and ornately decorated floor of the foyer before moving through to the hotel's hidden garden. Although there was still around an hour to go until the actual ceremony, maybe, she thought, she could finally start to relax as it didn't look like Jaime would be attending. Especially as Tyrion had just appeared in the entrance, accompanied not by a man who had the power to make Brienne's heart race but alongside a lithe brunette in a dress that was perhaps a little too tight for the occasion.

"And you didn't see her during our last finals week," she continued talking to Loras as if nothing had happened, ignoring Tyrion while he seemed to purposely step in and out of her line of sight. Though if her voice quivered as she spoke, losing some control as her mind began to wander again, Loras didn't rush to point it out.

"How's Sansa?"

"Remarkably okay for a woman who was, up until last night, planning to elope. I think they'll both be happy when they can just get on with living their lives together."

Loras' smile stretched a little wider. "Gran would love it if they moved back closer to her, but you all seem to like The North more."

"I wouldn't believe all that you read. It only snows four to six months of the year up here."

He laughed politely. "I suppose now that Jaime Lannister is running the northern branch of The Casterly Foundation out of The Vale there's more excitement in your life."

Brienne felt her heart skip a beat. "What did your sister tell you?"

"They're having most of the charity dinners here, too, right? While The Rock is being renovated? My brothers used to take turns in attending on behalf of our family, but you know Willas doesn't travel well. Jaime must have a reason for changing things around, though."

Brienne started to nod, shaking her head instead as she grew more uncomfortable with where he was leading their conversation, wondering what Margaery had read from between the lines she'd been told. But the sound of steadily approaching crutches provided her with an unexpected exit strategy, the familiar noise turning Loras' head while she silently thanked Willas for being blessed with perfect timing. "I-I should go, I don't want to be...late back."

"If you turn left out of the parking lot, there'll be a coffee shop a couple of blocks along the street."

Calling out her thanks, Brienne ran down the rest of the stairs, waving at the eldest Tyrell brother as she inelegantly slid past the frowning receptionist and straight into a lurking Tyrion. He'd been standing in the shadow of the hotel's imposing marble entranceway, flicking ash from a cigarette towards his father's car, but spared no time in looking her up and down.

"Jaime was right, pink is definitely not your colour." His smile was amicable enough, even if the slight bite in his tone undermined his attempt at good natured. Brienne found she couldn't look at him for longer than a moment or two, having not yet put enough time and distance between her and Jaime's hallway encounter and Tyrion's interruption to be able to act normally in his presence. She could feel him studying her, too much like his brother in that regard, sighing when he appeared to have figured out the reason for her anxiety. "He's already made that comment today, hasn't he?"

"No," she swallowed, feeling herself blush as pink as her celebratory hoodie. "I haven't seen him for a few days. Is he here? I didn't think he would-"

"Fuck, you two really haven't spoken since you left," Tyrion swore, rolling his eyes as if he had just remembered something entirely unpleasant he had to do later. "No wonder he's been a mess."

"W-what?"

He ignored her. "He had his blue suit pulled out for today. You know, the one that's been reserved for Foundation dinners since the spring. Remind me, how many dinners have the two of you attended now?"

"F-four or five? I started going with him in May after my dad was given that award."

"Hmmm. And how often did you two have coffee or dinner together?"

Brienne allowed her eyebrows to knit together, suspicion creasing her forehead and narrowing her eyes. She and Jaime were friends and it surely wasn't out of the ordinary for friends to do things together. "Until the Stoneheart fire? Every other day? Maybe."

"Just as I thought," Tyrion mused, pulling out his phone from a jacket pocket and typing a quick message. "He'd never admit it but I think he might be missing you."

She crossed her arms, forgetting to bite her tongue as a weeks worth of fearful fiery frustration rose up her throat like the first breath of a cornered dragon. "Because that totally explains why he couldn't wait to get me out of there. Or why he so often forgot to get dressed before breakfast."

Tyrion failed to swallow a laugh, his words become barely audible mutterings between guffaws. "Oh gods, the guy can't flirt to save his life. Twenty years of having women throw themselves at him and my dear brother doesn't know how to play it cool when he has a crush."

"He does not."

He continued to smile as Brienne spluttered through as many reasonable explanations as she could gather, pushing away everything but what she had convinced herself was the truth before Tyrion held up a hand, the action landing somewhere between asking permission and attention seeking.

"Trust me, I know my brother. And I can guess that none of this is an everyday occurrence for you either."

"I...no."

"Well if you're feeling in the mood to make ou...up then he should be along in a bit. Though Jaime hasn't quite realised that it's only the bride who should be arriving fashionably late to a wedding."

"I still need to get Margaery coffee. Or cigarettes," Brienne protested weakly as Tyrion produced a crumpled cartoon from his jacket pocket, dropping it into her hand without another word. "Or maybe both."

"Why don't you ask Bronn to go for you?"

Brienne's frown deepened. "You brought your family's assistant to the wedding?"

"Of course I did. And, not that you'd care, but Jaime was far more interested in being that bringing a plus one."

"You're right. I don't. I-"

"We'll all be in the bar after the ceremony, you should think about joining us," Tyrion interjected with another twinkling, persuasive smile. "Jaime at least owes you a drink."

"He doesn't owe me anything," she grumbled, glancing up to an open fourth floor window where she was half expecting to see Margaery doing her best to avoid giving in to the well-meaning, though unnecessary, hair and makeup suggestions from her maids.

"How about an explanation?"

At the sound of an all too familiar growl, Brienne spun around, her mouth falling open as Jaime strode into view, the midday sun momentarily granting him the appearance of a deity who'd been dipped in burnished gold, finding that she had to shuffle a few steps forward to prevent being blinded.

"I'll leave you two to get reacquainted, then," Tyrion chuckled as she stared, speechless for several stationary seconds, extinguishing his cigarette underfoot before disappearing from view.

"You've cut your hair," Brienne pointed out as soon as whole words wrapped around her tongue again, not understanding why some part of her wanted to touch, to pet, to check the shorter strands were as soft as they looked, clenching her hands into fists to stop from reaching out.

"And you're wearing a hideous shade of pink. That was Sansa's choice, right?" he replied evenly, a twitch of a smirk running up his cheek when her glower darkened. "What? I thought we were stating the obvious."

Closing her eyes, Brienne took a deep breath and tried not to grit her teeth. "Why are you here, Jaime?"

"I was invited to the wedding of my best friend's best friend."

"She's my...sorry, what did you just call me?"

"Apparently it's not so uncommon to have one. Even if you're no longer in middle school."

She rolled her eyes. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Do I?" he smiled, every syllable falling from his mouth allowing Jaime to tiptoe closer towards the edge of _something_ dangerous. "Sometimes you're so easy to read and other times I have no idea why you are the way you are."

"I think the feeling's mutual," she replied, leaning away from him just enough so that her hip knocked against one of the bow embellished marble pillars, involuntarily shivering as the chill seeped under her skin. "We lived together for two and a half months, in case you'd forgotten."

"Like that's _ever_ going to happen."

"Jaime. Please don't do this here of all places."

"I went to the most recent Foundation dinner on my own last week. You wouldn't believe the number of people who asked if we'd broken up."

Brienne frowned, fighting through the urge to blush at the way he was still gazing up at her. "We were never _together_ like that."

"No?"

"You were the one to kiss me!"

"You kissed me back! And then you left!"

"What was I supposed to do? Stay for breakfast after our 'friendship' had been jeopardised like nothing had happened?" she retorted, well aware that both of their voices were rising in volume, attracting more than a few bemused stares from the final trickle of guests strolling across the parking lot. "If your brother hadn't-"

Jaime growled deep in his throat, the interruption sending an almost painful rush of liquid heat down Brienne's spine to pool in her empty stomach. "You would think he'd remember to call after all the times he's asked to use my place to hide from his woman of the week."

She exhaled a soft laugh. Despite the tension descending all around them, Brienne being reminded of all the storms she'd grown up watching from her childhood bedroom window, the building anticipation between each flash and crash seemed to spark as they scrambled to discover whatever friendly common ground had existed between them in the first place. "He does that?"

"Sometimes." Jaime's emerald eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "But we're not talking about my brother."

"D-don't blame me for changing the subject, you started it."

"If you hadn't wanted to _continue_ it, a knee to the groin is usually better than shoving your tongue in my mouth."

"I-I," she spluttered as she blushed, waving a large, freckled hand in the general direction of his chest when carefully crafted explanations failed her. She had felt how hard he'd been under his towel that morning, but that simply could have been a mistake or a misunderstanding or even a mummerstrick designed to mess with both her head and heart. "You were all...damp and undressed and I-I couldn't think when you were...you were..."

"I was what?" he pushed, making no attempt to hide the step or two he sinuously stalked towards her.

"It doesn't matter. It's done, isn't it?" she hissed. "I thought...I thought it meant...You can't possibly feel-"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't feel," Jaime barked back, mirroring her searching gaze. "Trust me, the last thing I want is to be done with you. I cant stop thinking about you and how I would have done things differently if you weren't so bloody pig headed and realised I've been trying to get you to go on a date with me since before this whole Stoneheart mess."

"E-excuse me?"

"A proper date," Jaime repeated slowly, fire still burning in his eyes. "With me. Somewhere we hadn't been before. So it would be special.

She suddenly found the lines crisscrossing the marble floor far more interesting than watching Jaime stumble over his words. "But you're my _friend_."

"We can still be friends," he sighed, trying so hard not to be exasperated with her reasons but not quite succeeding. "I want to be your friend, Bee, I also want more than that but I know you deserve someone better than a greying, one handed ex-soldier with a bad reputation-"

Brienne felt her mouth fall open in disbelief, irritation replacing concern. "You can stop that right now. You've always been better than you think you are. You're smart and generous and you always do the right thing when it counts, even when nobody else will. You love your brother despite the opinion of the rest of your family and-"

"How can you think that and not see that you're just as smart _and_ sweet _and_ sexy?"

"I'm not any of those things, Jaime."

"To me you are," he blinked, sucking at his lower lip in a manner that betrayed all of his nerves. "Is that so hard to believe?"

The voice that contained all her fear and anxiety told her it might be."You could have anyone you wanted..."

"I only want you," he replied as earnestly as she'd seen him. "And I'm sorry for not telling you that earlier. I didn't want to hope that you stayed because you might lo-like me, too, and then I messed it up anyway by moving too fast."

"I-I don't think you did," she promised. "Not completely. I wanted...I didn't understand it but I didn't want to stop wanting."

"And then you got scared."

"I'm sorry."

She held her breath in the beat of silence that followed, blinking only when it became clear that Jaime wasn't, and hadn't since they'd ran into each other again, going to take his eyes off her. Though Brienne knew that she'd left Margaery alone in the crowded cloud of perfume and primping too long, there was something holding her back, feeling torn between the duties that had come with her maid of honour role and staying with the man who she invariably couldn't stop thinking about. "I need to get changed but do you want to come find me later? You can be my d-date tonight, if you want."

Jaime nodded as he smiled like all his birthdays had come at once. "Then you won't have to save me a dance."

"I'm not dancing." It was an old argument between them, one formed over many months, one they both knew the steps to intimately. He won more often that not but, even so, Brienne was pleased to see his smile reappear with her determined reluctance, bright and eager to begin winding her up again.

"It's a wedding." He pointed to the bow tied around the pillar, the overflowing flower arrangements left in vases by the door. "It would be rude not to."

"One dance."

It turned out to be three, all slow and romantic, Jaime having no problems taking the lead and only complaining once when she kept standing on his toes. However nice it was to be in his arms again, the day was made better as they talked until the sun had dipped low in the sky, airing her anxieties about giving her heart away and his fears of abandonment, agreeing they needed to explore their attraction without neglecting the things they enjoyed doing as friends, taking everything one step at a time.

So by the time one of the bouquets had accidentally landed in her lap, though she wasn't entirely convinced Margaery hadn't been aiming for her, and she'd made sure all the younger bridesmaids weren't in danger of being taken advantage of, Brienne headed up to her room for the night content in the knowledge that maybe she wasn't destined to be on her own forever after all.

Though that could have been Jaime's goodnight kiss talking.


	10. October: Carousel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween night and a fairground is in town.
> 
> Fluffy times ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been unwell this last week, and am still feeling pretty down, so I've got to apologise for this being late and any mistakes my last minute edits might have missed.
> 
> I have to re-write some of the next chapter so it'll be Wednesday next week when it's posted.

She could have said no. When he called and asked her to the fair in the middle of the night like they were both still in high school, she could have told him to stop joking around and put the phone down. She'd had a long week and needed her sleep more than she needed him laughing in her ear. Besides, they'd already been out three times since Jaime had shown up with coffee and croissants while she was doing her laundry that past Sunday morning and she hadn't seen the sun again until the next day. But Brienne couldn't, in good conscience, turn down the Tommen, whom Jaime swiftly passed her over to as soon as she started spluttering about a costume-slash-housewarming party for one of her new workmates that she hadn't really been looking forward to attending.

"They'll understand," he'd promised after Tommen had grown bored of small talk. "It's not every day a boy turns eight. And you can't tell me that you'd rather spend more time with those bastards than with me."

He was right, but Brienne would rather bite her own tongue off than tell Jaime that. She'd only been back at the fire station a few days before Chief Tarly had attempted to have the last laugh when it came to her career choices, putting her on an extended fire safety rotation around dozens of The Vale's elementary schools, her days spent discussing family friendly Wyldfire Night practices even after she had smashed all her targets. It took a few weeks for the disappointment to wear off, but in that time Brienne was surprised to find she was coming to enjoy the new aspect of her role, even down to telling the story of how an ancient mad queen had been prevented from burning Kings Landing to the ground and given rise to a festival of light over and over again. She still missed the sheer physical exertion of being a fully fledged firefighter but without Tarly's demands she wouldn't have seen Tommen again so soon, the boy raising his hand during her tried and tested talk to ask about clearing bonfires of hedgehogs and baby birds and kittens before lighting it. She didn't know why she suddenly _needed_ to speak to Jaime after that, but the sound of his ridiculously arrogant voicemail only seemed to heighten her desire, directing Brienne towards a moment of profound speechlessness that seemed to unfurl in slow motion as it was recorded for his later amusement.

They played message tag for a couple of days, never quite in sync for long enough to make it count, until Jaime took matters into his own hands and showed up at the fire station with two boxed sandwiches and an expensive bottle of orange juice. Ignoring the catcalls and comments from the more archaically minded members of the team, she merely folded her arms and gazed down into the reception area where Pod, back to act as a glorified receptionist for a few months until he was finished with physical therapy, was promising to cover for them while they went somewhere to eat.

Jaime came back the next day, and the day after, and the day after that, wooing her with sandwiches, the time spent together making her realise that they could have a good friendship and a relationship if they could manage to take the transition at the right speed.

So she could have said 'no' when he asked for her company on the night of Halloween, but the first glimpse of Jaime and Tommen's matching giddy grins on their feline painted faces as they stood beside a welcoming flag of azure and rose beside the parking lot made her glad she hadn't. It had been a very long time since anyone had been that happy to see her and their joy was infectious.

"You're early," Jaime sang out as soon as she'd climbed out of her car, leading his nephew out into the field so they could meet half way.

"So are you," she replied evenly.

"First time for everything," he replied, barking out a laugh before planting a gentle kiss on her scarred cheek. "It's okay, you can say it."

Brienne rolled her eyes, making sure to smile at Tommen as she did. "So do you have a plan?"

"A plan? It's a fairground, Bee, not a military operation! The _plan_ is to have fun."

She sighed. "Sideshows, carousel, bumper cars?"

"Ferris wheel, pirate ship, waltzer?" he countered as Brienne felt herself turn green. She had learned the hard way how the fast, spinning rides turned her stomach, the sedate turning of the carousel about as quick as she could manage.

"What about my favourite? The spinny high swings?" Tommen asked her, holding out his hand so that Brienne and Jaime could neatly bracket him as they all took their first steps into the fairground. He was still small enough so that she could have a whole conversation with Jaime, look by pointed look, blushes and lingering stares, bitten lips and battering eyelashes, without saying a word and interrupting wherever Tommen's young mind was currently wandering off to.

"I'll go on the roller coaster with you if we can avoid the waltzer."

Jaime cocked his head, appearing to seriously consider the offer. "Only if you promise to scream at the top."

She chewed on her lip for a moment, wondering if there was a way she could stop him from compromising further as she felt Tommen tug and then drop her hand, the little boy rushing over to a stand where they were offering giant stuffed cats as prizes for whomever could knock down a stack of tins with small bean bags. Left alone without the usual distractions from their past, though neither moved from keeping at least one eye on Tommen while he tried desperately to win the biggest, fluffiest toy, Jaime barely wasted a second before pointing out something she'd didn't remember doing.

"You forgot your lip balm when you left on Monday morning. I always wondered how you smelled like strawberries all the godsdamn time."

"Sorry," Brienne replied instinctively, finding it difficult to look away from him and pay attention to Tommen when she could just about count each of Jaime's exhales clouding in the cooling air. Winter would be with them again soon enough. "We slept in so late I didn't have time to collect every-"

"That's okay. I was just letting you know in case you thought you'd lost it. I like having something of you there when I get home."

She huffed out a breath. "I wish I'd know that earlier. You weren't so good at having me as a roommate, remember?"

He laughed in what felt like agreement, though she didn't want to risk glancing over to check if his eyes were still twinkling with amusement or if something darker, something more dangerous had replaced that familiar emotion. "Maybe these last few weeks have made me realise that apartment is just too big for just one person."

"I'm..."

"If the next word out of your mouth is 'sorry' I swear to the Seven I'm not going to be held responsible for my actions."

"I'm...I'm not sure how much longer the Lannister fortune is going to survive if we leave Tommen to fend for himself over there." Brienne gestured over to where the little blond boy was handing over ticket after ticket in an attempt to win at the game. "I know you two love all of this, but he probably could have had just as much fun running around a toy shop."

"Tonight isn't about the money, Bee. You don't get the same feeling walking up to a cash register as you do winning something after a bit of a struggle." He knocked her shoulder with his, having sidled over in what felt like the blink of an eye, the grass beneath their feet barely rustling in warning. She listened to Jaime's smile stretch across his face, not really needing to see his brows rise or lips quirk anymore, watching Tommen release his penultimate bean bag only to miss by several inches.

"And what about us?" Jaime continued, fixated on the sight unfolding in front of them. "I don't think I could have persuaded you out for a visit to _Manderly's_."

"Probably not," she retorted jovially. "I mean I did have a party to go to tonight."

"Were you going to wear the ears?" he asked from over his shoulder, calling out commiserations to Tommen while he strode forward, pulling out another wheel of tickets from his pocket.

"Ears, Jaime?"

"From Midsummer. The cat ears. Only if you were going to do it properly for Halloween, you'd need a catsuit and boots and..." he shuddered, desire hot in his eyes, and she found she had to release a heavy sigh as Jaime briefly moved out of earshot, following in his footsteps to join a visibly despondent Tommen. Jaime had already dropped to one knee, putting him more or less on the same level as the birthday boy, her name slipping so sweetly from his lips leaving Brienne scrambling for understanding.

"...used to play softball in college? Her friend told me she was the best pitcher in The Reach."

Tommen looked up at Brienne and back to his uncle, his eyes going wide. "Really?"

She shrugged, downplaying his sudden confidence in something she wasn't aware he'd known about. Brienne had never felt the urge to brag about her collegiate achievements and it had never come up in conversation. "I played a bit in college. I don't think that means..."

"She's the _best_ ," Jaime confirmed. He whispered something she couldn't quite catch to his nephew and then Brienne was being handed a strip of red fairground tickets and two pairs of pleading green eyes were guiding her to the stand like Jaime knew she couldn't let both of them down.

Though she had to take a deep breath to quieten her mind before testing the weight of the bean bag in her palm, Brienne hit the small stack of cans square on with her first shot, having lost some of her pace without regular practice but none of her strength or accuracy. No matter how inconsequential her victory might have seemed to the families passing by, it was nevertheless greeted with a round of hugs and whooping cheers. And as Tommen picked out his prize, she allowed Jaime's arms to linger a heartbeat too long to be appropriate in public, the warmth of his body, the familiar scent of spice and worn leather like a balm for her soul on the coldest of days.

"Okay," he breathed, the exhale rustling her hair while they reluctantly untangled, his fingers seeming to run down her arm without conscious thought. "Let's see what else we can win."

*******

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that Jaime had a competitive streak a mile wide, but after an elephant, a bear and a small penguin, along with half a dozen smaller creatures, had been added to Tommen's stuffed animal haul, Brienne had tried to stop him from parting with any more of his money just so the three of them could try their luck at the stands and old fashioned machines dotted around the rides. But it was when picking up a toy gun seemed to rattle Jaime more than it should have done, frown lines digging into his forehead deepening as his hand shook ever so slightly, that she'd had enough. Forgetting the toy being waved at them by the teenager manning the game, Tommen had his arms full already, she less than deftly brought up the dinner she'd forgotten to eat and soon found herself standing in line waiting for burgers to be flipped by a vendor beside the carousel while Jaime settled Tommen and his menagerie down at a nearby picnic area.

Brienne didn't see where the buxom brunette had approached them from though there was no mistaking her intentions almost as soon as she'd noticed Jaime clearing a space at the table, the friendly flickering smile he had been sharing with Brienne freezing in place at the sound of the other woman's voice rising above the crowd.

"Jaime Lannister," the brunette beamed again as Brienne returned, laden down with cardboard cartoons of fast food.

"Mrs Royce," Jaime replied, sounding like he was talking to a potential investor rather than a friend or acquaintance. "What a surprise to run into you like this. Have you met my gir...?"

"I told you, Jaime, to call me Myranda," she giggled, seeming far younger than the twin boys running rings around her would have had Brienne believe. "I'm not married anymore."

"Brienne, this is _Ms Royce_ and her sons Edric and Peytr. They're in the same class as Tommen."

"It's nice to meet you," Brienne replied politely, reaching across the table to shake her hand. It had been a long time since she'd been completely oblivious to the way women stared at Jaime, even Margaery had _looked_ , and he was now being eyed up like a particularly tasty treaty despite Jaime already looking bored of the additional attention.

"You, too, I'm sure."

"Are you...?" Brienne started to say, trailing off as Myranda leaned over the table, revealing a mile of cleavage as she'd left her jacket unknowingly unbuttoned in order to show off her assets, and stole a fry from under Jaime's nose.

"You don't mind, do you?" Myranda asked, smiling a little too broadly to be comfortable.

"What?" he blinked, having found more interest in discussing appropriate names for elephants with Tommen than any of the brunette's flashy tricks. "No, I'll just eat Bee's like usual. Mine never taste as good."

Brienne tried to roll her eyes as he aimed another sardonically heart stopping smile her way, fighting against the recurring urge to blush the same colour as the ketchup starting to stain her fingers. Caught halfway through swallowing her last bite, she spluttered out a wordless noise of indignation, watching Jaime bite into his lip like he was holding himself back from laughing as Myranda strained to mirror a similar level of joviality.

"Did you hear the boys are all going to be in a play next month for this semester's history project?" she enquired pleasantly. "Their new teacher was involved in the performing arts scene in Essos."

"I received an email from the school about it. My father is apparently very much looking forward to attending."

"Are you not going to come, too?" Myranda seemed to pout. "I could pick you up a ticket if you're too busy at the Foundation to get one yourself."

"You could bring Brienne," Tommen added sweetly, accepting the napkin he was being passed by his uncle before he could wipe his greasy fingers down his shirt. "You'd really like it," he continued, tilting his head to directly address the woman in question. "When you were staying with Uncle Jaime you had a book on The War of The Five Kings and that's what we're studying."

"I think I'd like that a lot, Tommen, but I-I would have to check that I'm not working that night."

"Oh," Myranda interjected, looking Brienne up and down as best she could while the blonde remained half hidden beneath the table. "Do you usually work nights? Is that how you met Jaime?"

"I work for The Vale's Fire and Rescue Service. I met...we met...it was January and snowing and-"

"There was an accident and she saved my life," Jaime translated as if such a thing was an every day occurrence, beaming when Myranda frowned in concern. "And not a day goes by where she doesn't regret it."

"That's not true. Just because we don't always...see eye to eye, doesn't mean I-I don't...l-love you," Brienne smiled just as Myranda pursed her lips, looking like she was still trying to find a way to catch and hold Jaime's eye for longer than a few seconds.

"I love you, too. So much." He cocked his head in reply, the corners of his mouth flirtatiously flickering skyward until she felt herself begin to burn from the inside out. And then, while her mind still raced and her heart pounded, Jaime stretched sinuously, almost daring her to stare, his knee knocking against hers as he rose to his feet. "It was nice to run into you again, Ms Royce," he told Myranda evenly, extinguishing his charm like it was something special that had to be saved for the right time and place. "Tommen always has a great time with your boys. I'm sure my sister will be in touch about setting up another visit soon."

"She has my number if...if you need anything."

Jaime nodded in thanks, professional rather than friendly, turning again to address Brienne and Tommen before Myranda could do more than wish them all a fun filled evening. "So," he started, "I think we've got a few dozen tickets left if either of you want to go on another ride."

"Do you think that's really wise right after we've eaten?" Brienne asked, adopting the voice of reason when it became clear she was the only one capable of doing so.

Jaime's eyes twinkled as his smile grew. "We can go nice and slow like on Sunday night," he purred and she blushed all over again, feeling like now he had discovered what exactly set her off, he wouldn't want to leave it alone.

"Can we go on the carousel again?" Tommen interrupted sweetly. "They've got white horses _and_ lions."

"Is that slow enough for you? Does riding a golden lion get the Tarth seal of approval?" Jaime teased, waiting for her to stutter a reply before reminding his nephew about helping to clear the table. Unfurling her legs from beneath the haphazardly varnished slats of wood, Brienne tried desperately to ignore the sensual promise that kept slipping under Jaime's usual tone, threatening her ability to walk as lust trickled down her spine, picking up the little that was left of her food and following Tommen's example.

It felt like the crowds had doubled since they had sat down to eat and Jaime immediately reached for Tommen's hand as they left the picnic area, steering around the chattering groups of friends and families that were slowly moving between the maze of attractions while Brienne trailed behind them, careful not to let them get drawn into any more sideshow games. If only because she was already rescuing the stuffed animals that were spilling over from Tommen's arms as they got closer and closer towards the carousel.

"Careful there, little man, you don't want to lose any of your zoo with all these people around," she gently warned him, handing back a monkey that had nearly hit the ground.

"Uncle Jaime?"

"You really think...?" he asked, shaking his head when Tommen nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, okay," Jaime sighed, holding out his shortened arm at Brienne in a mirror of all the times he'd attempted to escort her around the Casterly Foundation ballroom like a proper gentlemen. "With all these animals trying to make a break for it, Tommen is getting very worried that we might lose you next. I tried to tell him that you're much too big for that to happen but he doesn't believe me."

"What happens if we couldn't find you again?" Tommen's green eyes guilelessly blinked up at her. "Uncle Jaime would miss you so much."

"He has my number, you know. And he does like to call anytime he finds himself 'missing' me. I gave it to you, too, remember? It's not just for emergencies," she explained softly as she indulged Tommen's fears and slipped her hand around his uncle's bicep. Jaime didn't hold back his purr of contentment when she gently applied pressure to his muscle, encouraging him to follow her lead. "So, Tommen, do you think they have unicorns on this carousel? I didn't see any before."

"Unicorns?" he pulled a face that Jaime swiftly copied, seeming to enjoy the chance to tease her again. "Are you sure?"

Brienne smiled. "When I was a little younger than you are now my dad took me to a Braavosi carnival that had visited the island on the way back to Essos. They had a carousel with seven unicorns, each painted a different colour of the rainbow. I was so excited I went round once on each one and-"

"And you're adorable, we get it," Jaime drawled lowly against her ear, his warm breath setting her to shiver as it washed over the mile of furiously freckled flesh exposed beyond her jacket's collar. She turned her head to chastise and felt his lips barely brush her skin before they both stopped to stare at the other, so close and yet not close enough. "You are-"

"Uncle Jaime? Should I go and ask about the unicorns?"

Jaime pulled his gaze away from her with an exaggerated exhale that was only audible to an audience of one, his expression becoming something unreadable though familiar, warmth flooding his eyes as his focus diverged. "I think we should all do that together. You haven't let me pick out my ride yet."

Tommen was too sweet to huff or roll his eyes like an older child would, but Brienne could almost see him considering it. "You're going to pick the same one you did earlier, Uncle Jaime."

"Maybe, maybe not," he replied, sticking his tongue out at the solemn looking boy as they joined the end of the queue for the carousel, Tommen unable to hold back a giggle. "I might change my mind this time. There was a zebra that could be interesting."

"But what about the white horse?"

"I don't think he'll be lonely for long if I chose something different," Jaime replied, knocking Brienne with his shoulder and somehow drawing her closer in the same movement. "If there's no unicorns, we could let Bee play a knight in shining armour on the white charger for one spin."

Tommen looked up at her quizzically, the resemblance to the man at her side suddenly striking. "Okay."

"What are you waiting for, then?" Jaime asked, pointing to the woman collecting tickets in front of the twirling amusement. "We're next."

"I wonder..." he began, remaining quiet but casual as Tommen learned that their remaining wheel of red paper would only allow two onto the ride rather than three, though even those two murmuring whispered words were like someone had stroked a finger down Brienne's spine.

"Jaime?" she questioned, fighting against the next shiver that threatened to crackle across her skin, doing everything she could to not give in. Continuing to watch Tommen as he tried to turn back to rejoin them, having just passed the point of no return for the ride, Jaime gently waved him on while he and Brienne stepped out of the queue.

"If we let the birthday boy go round twice, we could stay here and make out instead." Brienne felt her mouth drop open, words dancing on the tip of her tongue evaporating into the early evening air, but Jaime's gaze didn't waver, still paying more attention to the crowd than to her silence.

"J-just for a minute," she stuttered and swallowed, nodding her head though there was no one to see her do so. "We have to try to be responsible adults tonight."

Brienne heard him let out a breath, growling something that sounded distinctly like 'one minute,' though, as Jaime dropped her arm, she was left feeling like she had done or said something wrong. But the sensation wasn't allowed to settle as no sooner had she accepted that they would have to wait was Jaime reaching out to draw her close, his stump bumping across her back before it rubbed and curled around the curve of her wide hip.

As he shuffled to face her, strands of his hair fell into his eyes so endearingly it had her fingers combing through the gold before she could stop to think. He only leaned further into her palm, green eyes narrowing like he'd just swallowed the first, morning sip of his favourite Valyrian roast. "You need do that more often. Be responsibly spontaneous."

"Okay."

"Okay," he breathed, tilting his head so that their noses bumped, lips a hairsbreadth away from brushing. "I think asking you to join us was a stupid idea, all I've wanted to do all night is-"

It felt beyond bold to cut him off mid-sentence, though it was really an infinitesimal lowering of her chin that brought her mouth flush against Jaime's warm, welcoming lips. But even after how many times they'd now done this, the surprising start allowed the kiss to stay gentle, skirting the lines of romantic, careful and _wonderful_ , almost chaste if not for the reawakened desire that was slowly burning under her skin. Brienne sighed as Jaime's arms tightened around her, trading considered touches that she felt all the way down to her toes, his tongue darting out to taste only to retreat behind smiling lips before she had a chance to return the favour. When they both pulled back for breath, his smile was as wide as her cheeks must have been pink.

"Gods," he swore reverently, running a thumb along her swelling lower lip. "We should that done _that_ the first time."

Brienne nodded in agreement, hating the tremble that had wound around in her voice. "We should do that every time."

"If I'd known you were going to be this insatiable I would have bought your lip balm."

"Shut up," she grumbled half-heartedly, glancing down at the trampled grass decorated with forsaken memories.

Jaime grinned, his fingers entwining with hers as they stood gazing at the animals spinning around on the carousel. "Do you maybe want to come home with me tonight?"

He wasn't the type to expect or assume, always asking when it seemed they were heading in that direction, but there were too many work nights in the week and neither of them liked that she couldn't really stay for breakfast without starting to move back in with him. They weren't ready for that just yet, but surely it wouldn't be so forward to admit to herself that waking up in his arms sounded like the perfect end to the sweetest of evenings.

"Yes, please."


	11. November: Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shopping trip and a dinner with Tywin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's been six(!) months since I updated this. I'm so very sorry it's taken me this long to work through my issues with this chapter to get it posted.
> 
> Mega mega thank yous to Sandwiches for her endless positivity!
> 
> Anything you recognise doesn't belong to me, the only thing I own are the typos and any mistakes :)

"I've been out in public with Jaime before, you know, I have plenty of suitable clothes that aren't covered in sparkles or have random bits cut out for some reason," Brienne insisted firmly as her friends passed another armful of clothes through the gap in the plush dressing room curtain.

"Are you sure 'suitable' is the right word?" Margaery covered her gasp with a polite laugh as if Brienne's clean, casual wardrobe was trying to personally offend her, though she accepted the rejected party dresses without overly pressing the issue. "I don't know how he worked around the six month waiting list, but your normal style doesn't really fit well with Chateau Neige. Especially as you're going there to meet his father."

"Six months? I didn't realise," Brienne replied, popping her head through the wall of velvet just as Sansa returned with an expensive looking pile of black and midnight blue. "Jaime said his father liked steak and it was the best place to get one. I should have known it wouldn't be some place casual."

"Yep. Last time Grandmother took us all they were charging eighty dragons for the best aged venison steaks. And that was years ago."

Brienne blinked. "He can't, he-"

Margaery waved away her protests. "You work hard and he's not short of money. Let him treat you even if it's just because you're willing to spend the evening with Twyin."

"That's not important," Brienne spat out, ready to abandon the misguided shopping trip as she reached for the warm familiarity of her green plaid shirt. It had been Jaime's, not so long ago, but after falling into bed together that last weekend, Brienne feeling like she'd been taken apart piece by piece and put back together by his gently persistent mouth and stroking fingers before completely unravelling when they finally connected, Jaime had decided it looked better caressing her shoulders and she should keep it.

 _You look good enough to eat in that, love,_ he had purred, stretching out to trail curious fingertips down her back as she'd turned away from the adoration in his gaze that caused an overwhelming surge of hopes and doubts to pound in her heart. Come back to bed and keep me warm. It's supposed to drop below freezing tonight.

"The m-money, I mean. I don't care about his money," she rushed to clarify, lost in a wave of recent memories for an all too blissful minute. "The rest...the rest of it is..."

"Isn't it?" Margaery smiled, knowing her well enough and for long enough that Brienne didn't really need to complete the sentence. "I'm sorry, sweetie, we just want to do everything we can to make sure you to enjoy these big dates with Jaime. Meeting the parents is important."

"I have met Tywin before, you know."

"Back when you and Jaime were just friends. Unless there's something you want to tell me about your previous living arrangement, this time it's different."

Brienne frowned. "We were friends. Nothing more."

"Of course. I believe you, truly I do. I've always said you-"

"Margie," Sansa interrupted gently, unhooking what appeared to be a tuxedo jacket from the overflowing rack. "I think I've found something."

"Oh, that's gorgeous," Margaery agreed, pecking her wife on the cheek as she twirled the hanger around to show Brienne the satin details. "What do you think? Skinny pants, that pale blue blouse you wore to our engagement dinner and this?"

"Just promise me no heels," Brienne firmly negotiated as she slipped the jacket on over her shirt, already loving the feel of the silky lining against her skin. Margaery knew the store manager and would barter for a discount, as she had done for almost everything throughout their college careers, but Brienne still didn't want to look at the price tag. "I'd rather not spend another night in the emergency room because I've broken an ankle."

Margaery nodded, solemn for the first time that day, too little time having passed to forget any of the pain events on midsummers eve had caused. Placing her hand over her heart in a promise, she cocked her head. "What about lingerie?"

"For dinner with his father? Really?"

"Of course not." Margaery's burgeoning smile faltered. "It's just I never get you to step foot in a shop that doesn't sell sports bras and I know you won't have updated your underwear drawer since college."

Brienne sighed, agreeing only in part. "Does it really look like that any of the scraps out there would fit me?"

"We could go somewhere else," Sansa interjected on her way back into the changing rooms, a large shopping bag hanging from one arm. "Just as long as it isn't a sporting goods store."

"One more place," Brienne sighed, retrieving her coat and backpack before purposely avoiding the wandering sales assistants as she headed to the checkout. There was only so many pitying looks she could handle before calling it quits would feel like her best option. "I really do appreciate your help but it's not like I need to be especially dressed up because he's getting ready to do something stupid like propose."

"Well, you never know, it is Jaime," remarked Margaery as she made sure the jacket was rung up without the percentage added on by the fancy name above the door. "But if it helps we'll promise not to make you try on anything else you won't wear again."

"When am I ever going to wear-?"

"New Year's Eve, those fancy Casterly Foundation parties, any future baby showers. Mine, yours..."

Brienne looked down at her friend incredulously. "You're already planning my wedding and potential offspring? Things are moving awfully quickly, don't you think?"

"Maybe," Margaery laughed, the delicate noise like a tinkling bell. "But for some people, what you two have been through wouldn't even be considered a whirlwind romance."

"It hasn't been all about-" she tried to protest again, sighing when it failed to put an end to her friend's amusement. "I give up. You can plan all you want to but that doesn't mean it's going to happen any time soon. Or at all. Can you just make sure I'm home by five today so I can shower before dinner?"

Margaery looked ready to rub her hands together in glee but reined in her enthusiasm just far enough to allow her reply to sound pleasant and calm. "Of course we will. You'll be back with time to spare and dressed to the nines to boot."

*******

The stream of hot water felt like a waterfall of bliss pounding away the tension in her shoulders while she washed the scent of expensive perfume out of her hair. Margaery had been as good as her word, as usual, but that still left Brienne floundering for an entire afternoon as they moved from clothing stores to lingerie departments to make up counters. Though she knew her friends were only helping the best way they could think of, at least both Sansa and Margaery agreed that a new jacket, some pretty purple underwear or a clementine scented lip balm couldn't really change the way Brienne was.

She knew what she looked like minus all the decorative pieces folded up in the bags strewn across her bed, _Jaime_ knew what she looked like, loving and wanting her in spite of what the mirror showed. In fact he had no problem with her ever switching schedule if a way to spend more time together could be found, quipping between yawns as he made cups of herbal tea at three or four in the morning when she was soot streaked and spent, offering to give her back his spare key if she wanted to stay with him anytime her place seemed too far away after a hard nights work. Brienne didn't know why it had been so difficult to accept his kindness after they'd spent all those weeks under the same roof, but the weeks she needed to accept what felt like the next step in their relationship flew by without a hitch and his key was now attached to hers almost as a reminder that Jaime was always there to offer support.

She dried and dressed without thinking, layering up against the cooling wind as the sun dipped lower in the sky before she was ready to say goodbye to the daylight. From the way the golden glow met the icy streets below it appeared that winter was rushing up to greet them again and stopping it was one of the many things out of her control. It had never been her favourite season but it had, in a strange way, brought her the man who she'd been happier with than anyone else in her life.

Brienne had long come to believe that Jaime wasn't anything more than fashionably late to most events because The Foundation provided him with their best driver, but even so, it came as a surprise when the knock on her door came a full ten minutes before she was expecting to receive a message saying he was on his way.

"Hi," he smiled the moment she opened the front door, almost boyish if not for the obvious crinkling at the corner of his eyes as he shrugged away the confusion wrinkling her forehead. "Peck finally found a shortcut through the construction traffic. Are you ready?"

"I just need to grab something and then we can go," she replied, ushering Jaime in from the cold for a soft kiss, his hands freezing as they slipped beneath velvet and silk. "You feel like you've been outside for hours."

"Just a couple of minutes," he promised, kissing her back like they hadn't seen each other in weeks rather than the day and a half that had passed since their last, highly competitive, date at the bowling alley. "I like the jacket. You look like a very classy ringmaster."

"I don't think that's the point of a ringmaster," Brienne frowned, sighing at the feel of his hands slowly moving up her back, warming as they went. "They're supposed to draw attention and look..."

"Look what?"

"Sexy," she muttered, disbelieving that the word had even come out of her mouth.

Jaime laughed as the blush trickled across her skin. "Well, you're never not that to me, sweetheart."

"Jaime, come on, be serious."

"I am being serious," he insisted, ducking his head to nip and tease the sensitive curve of her neck. "And if this is what Margaery managed to wrangle you into, my interest is truly piqued about what might be underneath."

"Nothing quite as spectacular," she promised, dropping a final peck on his lips before disengaging from the embrace to retrieve the postage stamp sized clutch Margaery had insisted went perfectly with her upscale dinner date look, hearing Jaime call out that she was underselling herself, as usual. "Maybe," she retorted, "but I was getting tired by that point in the expedition."

"Not too tired for dinner, I hope. Tywin has emailed me three times asking about you but I assume he's already had his spies digging up everything from your kindergarten report cards to your last employee evaluation."

Brienne shook her head, brittle waves of over conditioned hair almost feeling like the brush of butterfly wings as they grazed her cheeks. "I'm sure he doesn't want or need all of that."

"You don't know him like I know him." Jaime paused, reaching out to pull her as close as she could go before she could shut or lock her front door. "I know you've said you're okay with this, but if at any point it gets too much just say something and we can come home."

"Okay. Do you...do you maybe want to come back here for a change?"

"I wouldn't mind. My days are always better when they start with you wherever we are."

Brienne smiled, making murmuring sounds of agreement even after she slipped into the car. He was right though, Sunday, or any other day of the week for that matter, were better when they woke up in the same bed.

"Dragon for you thoughts," Jaime grinned as he slid across the back seat to settle at her side, though his expression immediately hardened as she began gnawing on her lower lip. "Did something happen at work I'm not supposed to know and worry about?"

"No," Brienne shook her head, finding it strange that that she had extra people to worry about her now, something she'd never really considered before the events of the last few months. "Nothing like that. I was just...You don't even have a toothbrush here, Jaime."

"Oh. We don't need to-"

"It's okay," she insisted, shuffling as close as she could with her seatbelt safely buckled, Jaime's arm creeping back around her torso as he raised his head from where it had been resting on her shoulder. "We just need to ask Peck to make a quick stop on the way."

"Next thing I know you'll be giving me a drawer."

"I can clear a couple and some closet space, too, if you want. You have more clothes than I do, it makes sense they'd need more room."

"Not if you keep going out with Margaery," he countered, running his fingers along her lapel. "You won't have room for me much longer."

"That was a one time thing," she promised, glancing down at Jaime nuzzling back into the curve of her neck. He would never ask but she was starting to understand when he needed reassurance despite all his quick witted bluster. "My home maybe small in Lannister terms but it wasn't built for one person. You're welcome to leave your stuff there anytime, there's room for you and if there wasn't, I'd make room. For you."

"I want the right hand side of the closet," he smiled at her, all dimples and crinkles, and Brienne felt her heart flutter. "So I take it you got something small and sparkly for the Casterly Christmas Ball today as well, then?"

"Sparkly, Jaime? Seriously?"

"You promised me, from your sick bed if I'm remembering correctly, that you would take a night off. And it was heavily implied when we discussed it again a few weeks ago there'd be dancing and sparkles."

"I thought you meant the venue, not me," she replied, feeling a preemptive heat slowly start to trickle across her cheeks. "There were other things going on that night that...that demanded our attention."

"Like your legs and how-"

"H-How many more of these formal events do you have up your sleeve?"

"Traditionally?" Jaime mused, sounding like he hadn't quite let go of the unadulterated joy he still found in making her blush. "Far too many for my liking. But silent auctions raise a lot more money than those events ever did and Tyrion loves roasting a room full of people too drunk to hold grudges so maybe we can think about cutting a few in the new year. Which has the added advantage of giving me more time to spend with you, away from prying eyes."

"I like the sound of that," she agreed. "Your Aunt Genna, as lovely as she is, has started asking when I'm going to bring my dad to a Foundation dinner."

"Thank the Gods he's chasing down semi-mythical beasts in White Harbour for the foreseeable future."

"I know," Brienne said, leaning in for the softest of kisses before allowing a heavy exhale to release the last of the tension in her body. "We'd never hear the end of what we're 'supposed' to be doing in two, six, twelve months if they met."

Jaime asked for a second caress, almost strangling himself with the seat belt in his eagerness but given the nature of their first meeting, she was loathe to forgo safety measures no matter how good a driver Peck was. "They should be happy to see how happy we are."

"And what more could I want?" she sighed, leaning forward slightly to direct Peck through a series of traffic calming measures on the way to her closest not so convenient convenience store.

"Maybe not having to share _our_ time with my father and Chateau Neige's famous death by chocolate desert to go? I'm sure having their staff cater our next event must have earned us take out privileges."

"It's okay if it hasn't, Jaime, I would be happy with a pint of ice cream."

"I know, but nothing's going to stop me wanting to give you the best I can."

**********

Though she had been introduced to Tywin Lannister more than once, the third time he'd shown up for a Foundation dinner making her feel like he was forgetting her name on purpose despite having sat opposite her and Jaime at the previous event, it didn't take long for Brienne to realise Margaery's warnings were correct. It _did_ feel different meeting one of the most powerful men in Westeros as the girlfriend of his eldest son. And with the waiter whisking her away before Jaime had returned from checking their heavy outerwear at the front desk she was forced to reacquaint herself with his father alone.

"Miss Tarth." Despite the warmth in the air Tywin's hand was cold as he shook hers, his expression unreadable. "I hope this table will be suitable for the evening. I asked my secretary to call ahead to make sure we wouldn't be disturbed by other diners."

Brienne mumbled in wordless agreement, trying to ignore the prickle of discomfort that was making the hairs stand up along her arms as he scrutinised everything, making her desperate to fold herself into the nearest chair and reach for a menu to hide her nerves.

"I trust you found the restaurant easily enough."

"We did." Brienne replied, wondering how long it took to check in a couple of coats and if Tywin hadn't orchestrated a diversion to keep Jaime away for as long as possible.

"So your lateness isn't something I should question?"

"I...We had an important errand to run."

Tywin pursed his lips, the air around him almost crackling with disapproval. "What exactly are your intentions towards my son, Miss Tarth?"

"Intentions?" she repeated without thinking, the word feeling out of place on tongue.

"Does that question really come as a surprise?" he asked, speaking so slowly that she felt like she was back in elementary school. When she didn't reply, too far out of her comfort zone to find the correct answer, he continued unabashed. "I must admit I did not expect you to be this obtuse. There is nothing in your history to indicate that you are anything but a smart, capable, self sufficient young woman, albeit one with poorly paid and highly dangerous vocation."

It was a far more complimentary description than she could have imagined coming from the man both Jaime and his brother had referred to as Lucifer after too many drinks. "Thank you?"

"But if you are planning to marry my son in order to provide yourself with a financial cushion you should know there will be an iron clad pre-nuptial agreement. If you cheat on him, you'll get nothing. If you refuse to move to a more suitable location so that Jaime can come back to the family company and stop playing up here with his ridiculous foundation, you'll get nothing. If you fail to produce legitimate children within an agreed upon time you'll-"

"Get nothing?" she interrupted, sounding far bolder than she felt even with the waves of fury that were roaring to life inside her, crashing through her veins. "I'm sorry, Mr Lannister, but you know nothing if you think I'd ever want more than I'm willing to give from your son. My heart is not something I can just give away and nothing about that love comes with conditions. If we have to play by those kind of rules, I think we'd be happy to take nothing from you."

"We would indeed," Jaime added indignantly, finally having escaped from the coat closet to join them at just the right moment. "How dare you call us here, Father, and demand that I fall in line now there's a chance I could live happily ever after away from the reach of the family."

"Happily ever after?" Brienne half mouthed, half whispered as she turned to face him, noticing a smile starting to to twitch at the edge of Jaime's mouth as he read her lips.

"Seemed appropriate," he told her with a shrug, holding out his hand as she pushed away from the table, desperate to find a escape from the lion's den. "Thank you Father for reminding me why I should always trust my instincts."

"I should have known you would react badly, Jaime, you've never been able to put anyone else's needs above your own." He shook his head. "What are you planning to do now?" Tywin turned his gaze back to Brienne. "Cut off from the only thing that would have made life more palatable up here?"

"I've survived all these years on my own up here, as well you know, Mr Lannister, and I'd be happy to share what little you seem to think I have with the man I love. No strings attached."

"And I love her, too," Jaime said, squeezing her fingers tight. "No matter what the future's going to throw at us."

"For richer and for poorer?" she asked quietly.

"In sickness and health," he agreed.

Tywin considered all of this with an icy cold demeanour, glancing between her and Jaime as if he could read every thought that was racing through their minds. Brienne held her breath as he steepled his fingers, waiting for the outburst that never came.

"I must say you've chosen well, unlike your brother," he nodded at Jaime and then gave Brienne his full attention once more. "I'd be happy to put the finer details of the prenup on hold for now, Miss Tarth, but we will still need to discuss grandchildren. At a more convenient time for you both, of course."

"Of course," Jaime drawled sardonically as she wondered how many years they could push that particular conversation down the line. "Is that it then? Or is there another way you'd like to not so subtly insult my girlfriend before we find the original table I'd booked for dinner?"

She squeezed his hand again, no longer as hungry as she was fifteen minutes earlier. "Or we can just go home?"

"You can go," Tywin replied, passing a judgemental eye over each of them in turn. "But we will talk soon. If not about your current birth control plans then definitely about your living conditions. It would be better optics for the Foundation if there were rumours of an engagement but your PR department can advise on that further."

"I'm so sorry about this," Jaime sighed, turning ever so slightly to block out his father's profile from her eye line. "You know the Foundation don't care about our relationship status, don't you? This isn't my Father's time nor is it his decision to make."

"I mean you have a drawer now. And a toothbrush," she swallowed hard. "So I'm okay for the Foundation to know we're long term serious, or whatever the PR speak is for that, if you are."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Jaime took a deep breath, gripping her hand even tighter than before. "I'll make sure there's an appropriate comment under any photos of us after the Christmas party. Is that enough?"

"It is. For now," Tywin smiled thinly, chilling Brienne to the bone. "Good night, Jaime, Miss Tarth."

"Good night, Father."

**************

"I could ask the new chef to make us anything you want to take home in case you're hungry later? Turns out we went to high school together." Jaime said as soon as they had exited the private dining room, shaking his head as she wrinkled her brow in surprise. "Yeah. If I didn't know better, I'd wonder if that wasn't just another string pulled by my bastard of father to keep me away while he threw pre-nups down your throat."

"He wouldn't-?"

Jaime pulled a face. "He once tried to franchise mine and Tyrion's favourite Valyrian bistro into a grab and go burger joint back when Tyr was in his cordon bleu phase. If we'd been any older, we could have just bought it out from under him but we were just teenagers so I wouldn't put it past him to do something as simple as calling in a debt and bringing in a Westerlands rising star for a few nights."

There was too many family dynamics for Brienne to unpack in that moment, so she picked up on the easiest thread. "You can't just buy a restaurant on a whim, Jaime. They're terrible investments."

"Good point." He smiled up at her like a slowly descending weight had been finally lifted, biting into the meat of his lower lip in a way that always made Brienne's stomach drop to the floor. "So, should we do fancy takeout or something to put in the fridge for later?"

"You know, after all of this, I'd rather have a chocolate fudge sundae with whipped cream and maraschino cherries," she said. "Or one with caramel bourbon sauce."

"I could make you one of those if we stop off at the Mart-Tell first. A true Jaime special."

"Just as long as everything stays in the kitchen tonight. I never got the chocolate off my sheets the last time you made a 'Jaime special'."

"No promises," he laughed as she jovially tried to elbow him in the ribs, walking out of the restaurant into the gently swirling snow. 


	12. December : Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of fluff to finish things off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to Sandwiches and thank you so much to everyone who has commented and left kudos! I really hope you all enjoy this last chapter :)

Brienne hadn't felt the urge to put up or decorate a Christmas tree in a long time, blaming her lack of holiday spirit on living alone and not always knowing when her shifts would fall when so many of her colleagues had children relying on them to put on a show. Margaery and Sansa made sure to extend multiple invites every year, enjoying hosting more than just the main event so much that Brienne often found that her fridge filled to the brim with the tastiest of leftovers even if she couldn't catch up with her friends until later in the week.

This year was going to be different though. The past couple of weeks had really opened her eyes to how her relationship with Jaime was comfortably moving from strength to strength, putting whatever deep seated insecurities still lingered to bed, and she'd been getting herself ready to embrace the challenges that would come hand in hand with the changes they had agreed upon. It would be their first major holiday together and the first time her little house would be hosting more than a casual brunch.

Or so she'd thought until that morning when, after being rudely awoken by the alarm Brienne had been too distracted by Jaime's seductive suggestions to turn off the night before, her free day was spent directing a parade of people delivering decorations that seemed to go against his repeated requests for a holiday that was 'cosy' and 'intimate'. It seemed old habits were even harder to kill when they had hundreds of years of tradition backing them up, and no matter how much Jaime had come to dislike the pomp and circumstance it was one of the few links he still had to his mother. Maybe if she'd been a little older when her own mother had died, Brienne would have better understood the appeal of picking through the dozens of brightly coloured boxes that we're currently carpeting her living room floor.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" she greeted what she hoped would be the last visitors of the day with a politely forced smile, already looking forward to the afternoon nap that was going to immediately follow a brief inventory of all the baubles.

"If you can just let us know if there's anywhere specific you'd like us to put up the tree, Miss."

"Could you leave it in the hall as it is, please? There's no need to assemble anything," Brienne replied, shaking her head at the size of the pine that had come from the Lannister's preferred department store, almost matching the length of her hallway, her eyes widening as a worrying thought suddenly struck her while signing for the final delivery. "Do you know if Mr Lannister requested anything special with the ornaments?"

"Just red and gold," the young man replied, pocketing his pen as his partner collected the last of the packing paper. "As he sends to all his children every year."

Brienne sighed inwardly. She should have known the minute the truck showed up that Jaime wouldn't have just ordered a tree when he'd spent a good hour enthusiastically going through all the benefits of picking out and cutting down your own only a few days earlier. He might not have the steadiest hands anymore but he'd joked about never losing 'the eye' and Brienne had started to wonder if they would find a lot of fun existed between the branches of beautifully cultivated trees.

"Would there be a way I could change some of the colours without needing to notify Mr Lannister?" she asked, attempting to come up with a plan that might suit everyone before whatever small measure of holiday spirit which had seeped into her veins was crushed under the weighty reach of the Lannister patriarch. "I don't think I've got the kind of place for most of this."

"What did you have in mind?"

*******

It took a few hours but by the time she heard Jaime's key turning in the lock, recent meetings at the Foundation locking him away for hours on end though he still insisted on coming to see her at the end of each day, Brienne was finally happy with the solution she'd found. She would have to run it past Jaime first, though she doubted he'd mind donating the tree and the towers of exchanged twinkling trinkets to a more worthwhile cause than her too small, too old fashioned front room. Even if her kind, generous nature hadn't been as valued by the older members of the Lannister family as much as her college graduation, rank or child bearing hips, she was prepared to defend the choice to regift all the unnecessary items should the subject ever rear its head at any of the upcoming dinners Jaime had added to her calendar. It still made her smile to think how he'd purposefully scheduled events for the next quarter around her working and studying patterns, the gesture doing more to make her feel loved and wanted than the the perceived romance of flowers or chocolates ever could.

"Honey, I'm...holy crap," Jaime exclaimed as it took him a second to adjust to moving from night to light, Brienne watching him shake a damp dusting of snow from his hair as she sat counting through plastic stars at the bottom of the stairs, his stereotypical salutation being cut short from surprise.

"Welcome home," she beamed up at him from her perch on the bottom stair, her task forgotten now there were more important things to think about. "And there's more in the living room."

"Brienne?" he replied, her name holding more of a whine than an actual question. "Did you open a hotel for elves and forget to tell me?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but your father opened something similar for us without asking first."

"Like he would ever ask before doing anything that could inconvenience another person," Jaime scoffed, taking another look around. "Why didn't you call? I could've rearranged my meetings for an emergency."

Brienne blinked, her forehead creasing as she tried to work out if he was being serious, finding no further clarity existed even after rising to her feet. "You and I have very different ideas of what classes as an emergency. Besides, I've just spoken to a lady at the Great North Children's Hospital and if it's okay with you, they can come on Monday to collect everything."

The sheer glee held in his slowly spreading smile could have put the sun to shame with the way it warned Brienne, his reaction almost childlike in its unfiltered exuberance. "And we can still go and cut down our own?"

"Just as long as we don't have to bring our own axe."

"The firehouse would frown on you borrowing equipment for personal purposes, I suppose."

"You have no idea," she retorted, sighing contentedly at how quickly he reached for her as she stood, pulling her close. "There'd be seminars and...um...we'd..."

"Yes?" Jaime murmured, barely lifting his lips from the spot he'd discovered on her neck that could make her shiver. "Would it be a long, hard day?"

"Jaime." She gave up trying to shake her head as he sucked a little harder, her eyes rolling more in pleasure than exasperation. "Is now the right-?"

"Gods, I've not been able to stop thinking about you today."

"All day?" Brienne asked between gasps, incredulity an old habit she hadn't quite shaken. "You had important meetings!"

"Nothing quite as important as...how about I show you?"

*******

Using what was left of his right hand to push her shirt up over her toned stomach and towards her ribcage, Brienne gasped as a wave of cooler air hit her exposed skin, goosebumps forming wherever Jaime's fingers and lips weren't already gently reminding her of his love. His touches remained gossamer teases despite how her breath breaking into even softer sighs caused him to growl deep in his throat, the sounds she was producing encouraging Jaime to make even more of an effort to take his time tracing freckles like she was something that needed to be revered and savoured.

Bestowing affection came so naturally to him, whether it was expressed in deep, considered kisses each time they said goodbye or the powerful and passionate sex they occasionally instigated during early morning steamy showers, that Brienne had worried every time they shared a bed without doing more than curling up to sleep meant there was something wrong with their relationship. Perhaps if Margaery hadn't been prone to referring to 'the bloom coming off the rose' when it came to her eldest brother's brief dalliances then the idea might not have taken root, but once it had Brienne found it was harder to shift than the unwanted wildflowers that kept springing up in her garden.

She and Jaime had seen the best and worst of what the world had to offer but still had known so little of what really mattered when it came to forging a life with another.

"Brienne," he paused, running his hands up her sides as if wanting to add her t-shirt to the small pile of clothes forming on the floor but stopped at the last second, concern painting clear lines across his face. "Are you still with me? I can stop if you're-"

"No, it's okay, I want this. I was just thinking."

"I could kill my father for intruding again, too," he said, something close to fury sparking in his eyes, momentarily clouding over but not completely hiding the worry that she could still see overwhelmed the rest of his feelings. Despite what might have seemed like evidence to the contrary with his penthouse apartment, bespoke tailored suits and public facing foundation, he cared more about how people perceived and treated her, and his brother and even their army of assistants, than he did about himself. "I don't know how many times I have to remind him that although we're serious about this relationship, it doesn't mean we have to follow any set timeline. And that goes for Christmas, too. We should get to do what we want for the first one before getting pulled into family obligations."

She felt the corners of her lips twitch into a smile that skirted the edges of melancholy, tightly lacing her fingers with Jaime's so that she could pull him up to meet her mouth. "I was thinking about us."

He returned the kiss with an unreserved hunger she throughly enjoyed the taste of, the cacophony of contemplations in her head quietening to whispers. Resting his weight on his elbows as she wrapped a leg around his hip, Jaime had no qualms in matching the grinding contact they both instinctively fell into. "Do you want to tell me about it now or later?"

"Later sounds better."

"I agree."

Brienne understood that they hadn't been good at talking through anything back when every new day promised novel experiences seen through freshly tinted glasses, as there were few benefits to be gained from shallow, toxic relationships or a shelf full of romantic notions. It had taken many stilted midnight conversations before Jaime was comfortable admitting he'd only just started to get how loving and feeling loved didn't always have to be expressed in such a physical sense as he'd been used to before they were together. Though, as he'd explained from across the divide that was opening up in her bed, that didn't mean his feelings had changed, just he preferred not to be the only one initiating when they wanted to move things on from caring to carnal.

Assuming she would react eventually and they'd settle into a new routine but forgetting about her lack of experience in the same breath, Jaime hadn't realised Brienne's insecurities ran so deep, still needing his reassurances that the love he had for the strength in her heart matched that of her body just as much as he needed her to open his eyes to all the unconditional tenderness that could exist in a healthy relationship.

She used to shy away from how he looked at her under the illumination of her bedroom lights, convincing herself that whatever had become trapped in his gaze like a moth in amber had to be too good to be true, but trust and time allowed so many wounds to begin healing that now, muttering a curse or two against her scarred cheek as he struggled with the clasp of her bra, familiarity outweighed surprise when Jaime couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Can I help?" she asked, softly and without judgement, tucking flyaway strands of hair behind his ear.

"Just give me a second, love, tricky little bastard doesn't want to let me in."

"It's new, it's just a little stiff."

"I know something else that's suffering a similar problem," he half laughed, half purred as Brienne pushed her fingers deeper into his mane, her grip tightening as he dipped his head to taste her descending blush by dotting open mouthed kisses along her jaw, down her neck, stopping only when he could encircle the tip of her left breast with his tongue.

Her back arched off the sofa at the touch, wantonly seeking more as the tingle between her legs intensified, Jaime taking a second, third, fourth draw before releasing her just long enough for her to start undressing him in kind as he tried to switch his attentions across her chest.

Brienne heard rather than saw the stray button that popped from under the collar of his now rumpled snow white shirt, excitement and desire working in tandem to amplify all the clumsiness she usually had under control. Though as she opened her mouth to apologise, Jaime shrugged the damaged garment off his shoulders and laughed the mishap away, the rumbling vibrations from the sound being quickly transferred to her skin in his continued quest to kiss every single freckle now visible.

"You taste like you took a bath in a pina colada glass."

"New..." she gasped, lifting her hips while he opened the button on her jeans, his fingers stroking lower and lower. "New body wash."

"It's amazing," he said, licking along lines of muscle. "You should always, always use it. And if the lady has no objections, I'd really like to touch you."

"You are touching...oh, _yes_."

It was almost all Brienne could say for the next few moments, the affirmation slipping from her lips along with his name as Jaime gently but firmly made her see stars.

*******

The sheets felt cool against her bare limbs as Brienne stretched each of them in turn, closing her eyes to the dull light trickling through barely visible gaps in hastily drawn curtains, the absence of tension in her muscles about as welcome as the warm body moulded to her back. Though they had headed upstairs shortly after Jaime had helped her to climb that first peak, neither had wanted to sleep until the small hours of the morning, finding intense connection in each other's arms. She could almost still feel him inside her if she moved in a certain way, though that pleasant ache wouldn't last as long as the sense of belonging she'd recognised reflecting in his eyes. When they found the same page they were so good together it both scared and amazed her.

"We should get our tree today, maybe put up the lights later."

"I knew Monday's 2am ice cream run would be a good idea in hindsight."

"I still say we don't need that many," she replied fondly, turning to face him while trying to preserve the warmth their bodies were producing. "Unless you're planning on adding lights to every single room."

"Of course not," Jaime laughed, full of mock surprise. "There's nowhere to set them up in the bathroom."

"Not to mention that water and electrics don't generally mix well."

"I would have put them behind glass! You remember that tool belt I got as a gag gift a few years back, I could have finally put it to good use."

"Oh," Brienne exhaled, having trouble hiding the blush that swept down her torso. There was something about the memory of what happened the last time Jaime had promised to use his often forgotten tool belt, when the water coming out of her shower faucet had disappeared down to a trickle, that made her heart jump into her mouth. "Well, hmmm, maybe you could still take a look," she mumbled. "I wouldn't hate taking twinkly baths for the next month or so."

"Done," he smiled, barely needing to move to kiss her until she was yet again releasing all manner of happy little noises. "Should I start now," Jaime purred, blinking up at her through ridiculously golden eyelashes, looking utterly satisfied at the languid speed in which she had decided to cover his body with her own. He knew she was better at initiating in the morning, with the low light and sleep still clinging to the last of her inhibitions giving her more courage than she'd ever need with him still looking at her like she hung the moon and all the stars in the sky. "Or would you like to do something else first?"

"I just want you."

"I'm not going anywhere."

And after everything, all the tiny little coincidences and deliberate acts that had brought them to this moment where she'd never felt more at ease with herself, Brienne couldn't have been happier for breaking the rules on one, scary, special, snowy January night. For saving a life that had taken up an important place in her heart. For making a friend and falling in love and-

"Brienne," he said, interrupting her thoughts before they spun completely out of control. "Foreplay is one thing, and I'd be happy just kissing and touching you for the next hour if that's what you really want, but this bouncy thing you're now doing might be classed as torture in some circles."

With a tremendous blush rippling through her, no burning building ever coming close to the fire he could light under her skin, Brienne reached behind her and took him inside in one smooth, practised move.

For Jaime, she allowed herself to finish, falling over the edge too quickly with his hands on her hips and their lips pressed together.

For changing her life that past year just as much as she'd changed his.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have a minute, please feel free to leave a comment or a kudos :)


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